


You're My 119

by naeuioneonenine



Series: the end was decided from the beginning [1]
Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst, Explicit Sexual Content, Gangs, M/M, Minor Violence, Panic Attacks, also some background ships but you have to figure them out, donghyuck is a bad boi, lots of swearing, mark lee is a nerd
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-27
Updated: 2020-03-07
Packaged: 2021-02-27 07:48:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 25,348
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22433665
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/naeuioneonenine/pseuds/naeuioneonenine
Summary: Mark’s soulmate is clumsy.Really clumsy, he thinks, looking into the mirror at the bruise blooming on his side. It aches, really aches, but it must be worse for his soulmate. If all Mark got was this huge, dark, purple bruise painted on his skin, who knows what the actual injury is like?Lee Donghyuck is not clumsy.He blinks until the stars fade from his vision, holding his side, and briefly imagines what his life would be like if he could be clumsy. But he can't be clumsy, because if he was clumsy, he'd be dead.
Relationships: Lee Donghyuck | Haechan/Mark Lee
Series: the end was decided from the beginning [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1658797
Comments: 86
Kudos: 870





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> alternatively mark lee is a very good boy and his soulmate gets in a lot of trouble
> 
> the premise is basically when your soulmate gets hurt you get it too, but only like... a toned-down version of it. 
> 
> hyuck, 127, and the wayv squad are all part of a gang that mostly just causes minor trouble and does some very rowdy things.  
> dream are just... hangin. how they do.

Mark’s soulmate is clumsy.

Really clumsy, he thinks, looking into the mirror at the bruise blooming on his side. It aches, really aches, but it must be worse for his soulmate. If all Mark got was this huge, dark, purple bruise painted on his skin, who knows what the actual injury is like?

Jeno told him once that whatever injury your soulmate gets, you get an echo of it: a toned-down bruise or cut, the fading sense of a stubbed toe, the lingering sting of a paper cut. He says that he can feel the heat on his fingertips whenever Jaemin burns his hands pulling food out of the oven without gloves but never bears the blisters. He also told Mark that it got much better after they realized they were soulmates. It seems like the more time you spend with your soulmate, the universe decides to be at peace with you and tones down the phantom injuries. 

Jaemin said that he almost missed feeling the impact of a soccer ball whenever a player on Jeno’s team hit him on accident (or purpose, once, but Jaemin already took care of that) because it was nice to be assured of his presence and feel the connection. Jeno called him a sappy piece of shit with a dopey smile and then told Jaemin that he didn’t miss the finger-shaped bruises on his neck every other Friday night. Mark had slammed his hands down over Chenle’s ears, who shrieked, and left Jaemin frantically shouting over Jeno’s continued detailing of Jaemin’s freshman year habits. 

Mark always carefully steered any soulmate talk away from the topic of his own. Whenever Jeno walked into the kitchen to see Mark wrapping a bandage around a new cut or scrape, he would get that worried look in his eyes and Mark hates pity more than anything, especially if whatever he’s dealing with is only a fraction of what his soulmate is going through. 

As a romantic at heart, it hurts, maybe more than the cuts, to know that he can’t be there to help the one that the universe decided was a perfect fit for him. All he can do is try to at least make sure his own injuries are infrequent and unbothersome. If he can’t make things easier for his soulmate, the least he can do is not make anything worse. 

He spreads bruise cream on his side, knowing it won’t do much since the injury isn’t his own, and pulls on a sweater.

Fall on campus is chilly, and the sky is dark with the promise of rain. Mark sighs, staring at the clouds. Taking an eight a.m. class hadn’t seemed so bad when he was signing up but right now he’d rather be dead than running across campus because there was no way in hell he was going to make it through statistics without coffee and the line at his favorite cafe was longer than he expected. 

_Whatever,_ he thinks bitterly. Professor Yu will (probably) understand. 

She doesn’t, and Mark drops his head to his desk while contemplating how to get her to give him the attendance credit because technically he wasn’t _late_ and it’s so _cold_ and Mark is too caught up in thinking about all the ways he could gain her sympathy that he barely notices the student sitting in the usually-empty seat next to him.

Why do music production students have to take math credits anyways? All Mark needs to know is how to count beats and measure syncopation but here he is, learning about data curves and models. The person next to him smells like smoke and it bothers his nose. Mark sighs and doodles in the margins of his notes. He thinks about the bruise, thinks about his soulmate. 

Not everyone has one. Most people fall in love the normal way, through friends of friends or exploring hands at a bar, the way they do in movies. But, as Mark’s dad said to him once, sometimes the universe intervenes. Sometimes the universe sees something so beautiful, so perfect, that it reshapes the stars and rearranges atoms so that the impossible can become possible and two people can fall in love without ever having met. Soulmates are like that, his dad said. 

“Don’t think about it as if you’re being forced to be with one person,” he said to Mark, putting a bandaid over a scrape on his elbow despite Mark staying at home all day and definitely not tripping on an asphalt playground. “Think about it like listening to a radio channel full of your favorite songs, and suddenly one plays that you’ve never heard before, but it’s the most lovely song you’ve ever heard. The universe is like the DJ who picked that song especially for you. Maybe you didn’t know you would like it, but it’s the perfect song for you.”

“What if I don’t like the song? Or, what if someone else likes that song more?” Mark, young and eager to figure out how to make music, peered at the yellow bandaid on his arm and asked, “What if the song doesn’t like me?”

His dad hummed. “That’s possible, I guess. But it’s always worth giving it a listen, isn’t it?”

Mark didn’t worry about his soulmate for a long time. He’s pretty content to let things continue along whatever path the universe sees for him. It wasn’t until his first or second year of high school that it became a problem.

His soulmate has always been clumsy. His parents used to admonish him for getting so many bruises and scrapes, until they figured out that they weren’t his. As a kid, his soulmate must have just fallen a lot, since he always had scabs on his elbows or knees. 

In high school, he got his first cut. It wasn’t deep, but it did stain the sleeve of his school uniform red. Jeno had almost passed out next to him. Jeno’s lucky his soulmate only ever seems to get broken fingernails and sprained ankles. If it was any worse his fear of blood might be crippling. Instead he just almost fainted because suddenly there was blood on Mark’s fingers and on the video game controller he was holding.

“Shit,” Mark said, staring at the cut on the back of his hand. “Oh shit.”

It only got worse from there. It seemed like every other week brought a new injury, a new set of white sheets until his mother finally bought him dark, maroon-colored ones that didn’t show the stains. He got a new reputation as the kid who always had extra bandaids in his backpack. 

“Mark,” Jeno whispered one day, lying on Mark’s roof staring at the stars. “Do you think your soulmate is okay?”

Mark sighed, pressing a finger lightly against a bruise on his wrist. “I don’t know. All I can do is hope so, right? Until I find them. What else am I supposed to do?”

“I don’t know.” Jeno frowned, and looked at his own hands, at the paper cut he got from throwing a book at Mark’s head. “I don’t know, Mark.”

The worst Mark ever felt was the year he broke his leg from skateboarding too fast down his driveway. When his mom asked him why he didn’t stop crying even after the x-ray, he told her that he felt guilty, because what if something happened to his soulmate because Mark was too careless? His mother had just sat on the hospital bed with him until he fell asleep. She later raised her eyebrows at his plan to not ever get seriously hurt again but didn’t laugh. 

And Mark succeeded, for the most part. High school and his first year of college went without incident, aside from the occasional bump or scratch. He decided he liked making music more than skateboarding, and traded kneepads for keyboards. His parents were happy to support him, and he successfully got Jeno as a roommate two years in a row. 

His soulmate, however, seems to get clumsier and clumsier every year.

🀢 🀢 🀢

Lee Donghyuck is not clumsy.

He blinks until the stars fade from his vision, holding his side, and briefly imagines what his life would be like if he could be clumsy. But he can’t be clumsy, because-

“Duck!” 

A bullet goes over where Donghyuck’s head was a moment ago, and Sicheng runs past him, slotting a new bullet into his gun followed closely by Yuta, who briefly pauses to make sure Donghyuck is alive before effectively using his fists to distract the guy who was moments away from making sure Donghyuck was not going to be alive. 

If he was clumsy, Donghyuck thinks, he’d be dead. 

He almost goes back into the fray to support Yuta, but a hand on his elbow stops him.

“Nu-uh,” someone says, and Donghyuck sighs, turning to face Jaehyun. “You’re not going back out there. Not after a hit like that.”

It’s not like Donghyuck could have _known_ the guy was wearing steel-toed shoes. He tells Jaehyun as much but the other just shakes his head. 

“Go watch outside. Maybe some of his lackeys will come out the back way and you can give them a thump. Just watch it. We don’t need any more broken ribs from you.”

“Fine,” Donghyuck grumbles, shaking him off. Jaehyun rolls his eyes. “The payload is in the back. I overheard them talking about it.” He doesn’t wait for Jaehyun’s response but does hear his exasperated sigh at Donghyuck’s annoyance. Sure, maybe it’s a little childish, but he flips off the guy Sicheng shot just for good measure and makes his way to the door. 

And yeah, he does feel like a petulant child when the others come back out to find him pouting with his arms crossed. Yuta laughs at him and throws a small bag at him which Donghyuck throws back. 

“You know I don’t fuck with Harry,” Donghyuck snaps, and Yuta laughs again, pocketing the drugs. “Give it to Ten. He’ll suck your dick for it.”

“Gross,” Sicheng says, smacking the back of Donghyuck’s head. “Let’s go. I already told Taeil to check out your ribs.”

“No,” Donghyuck whines, “I don’t want him to make me sit with Doyoung and stare at excel documents for two weeks again.”

“Maybe you should have thought of that before you went and got yourself roundhouse kicked in the side,” Jaehyun says, knocking on the side of their waiting van until the door slides open. “In you go.”

“Woo,” Donghyuck tries, turning to the blonde in the driver’s seat, raising an eyebrow at him through the mirror. “Tell them I don’t need Taeil to poke at me and then tell me to stay indoors and out of trouble.”

“I don’t need Taeil to poke at me,” Jungwoo says to Jaehyun with a crooked grin, and Donghyuck groans. 

“ I’m not talking to you. Don’t speak to me again.”

“Ever?”

“Ever.”

“You just answered me.”

“Fuck,” Donghyuck yells, over the laughter, and then winces, hand going to his ribs. “Stop bullying me. I’m gonna tell Kun.”

Jungwoo pulls out of the parking lot outside of the weird bar that had been covering for the assholes who intercepted and stole half of the last shipment Yuta had ordered. Which in turn meant their contacts had started getting irritated about, which meant they had to personally go and send the message to fuck off. 

Donghyuck sits in the back of the van and pouts the entire ride back to The City, their own weird bar covering for a gang operation. Taeil’s waiting for them in the back, and immediately makes Donghyuck sit down and pull his shirt off. The others disperse, leaving just the two of them until Johnny knocks on the door and comes in, followed by Taeyong. 

The pout and big eyes finally work on Johnny, who makes a sort of crooning noise and pats Donghyuck on the head. 

“Aww, Hyuck, what happened this time?”

“It wasn’t that bad.” Donghyuck kicks his feet against the table until Taeil smacks his thigh to get him to stop. “Just didn’t expect the asshole to be wearing steel-toed boots. It’s fine and I definitely don’t need to take time off and sit with Doyoung to look over numbers.”

“It’s not fine,” Taeil says. “Your ribs are probably seriously bruised. I don’t think anything is broken but you still need to take it easy for a little bit.”

“I don’t want to,” Donghyuck whines, pushing his bottom lip further out. “I’m fine, hyung, I promise.”

The pout does not work on Taeyong, who shakes his head. “If Taeil says you should sit out you’re gonna sit out.” 

Donghyuck has a brief staring contest with him before giving in. “Fine, boss.”

Taeyong laughs and ruffles his hair. His gaze shifts to pensive, and he looks at the little red line on Donghyuck’s jaw. “Donghyuck-”

Donghyuck leans away, turning his face. “Don’t, hyung.”

Johnny looks closer and then at Taeyong. “What? It just looks like a nick from shaving.”

“It is,” Taeyong says, sighing. “But it’s not his.”

“Ahh, your soulmate’s.”

“Don’t,” Donghyuck repeats. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“You’re going to have to eventually.” Johnny sits next to him on the table and keeps lightly patting his head. It’s weird but soothing. “You’re going to meet them eventually.”

“Ideally never.”

Taeyong frowns. “That’s cruel, Donghyuck-ah. You’re gonna leave someone out there wondering how they keep getting fucked up because their soulmate is reckless and can’t keep himself out of trouble? I bet whoever it is is afraid one of these days their soulmate is going to die and-”

“Don’t.”

“Not be able to feel anything,” Taeyong finishes quietly, and Donghyuck brings his shoulders up defensively. 

The cruelest part of Donghyuck having a soulmate is not that his soulmate must wake up with bruises and cuts but that Donghyuck rarely finds injuries that aren’t his. The only one he can recall is when his soulmate broke their leg or something because Donghyuck was angrily hobbling around the club for weeks. But these days, the only marks he gets are tiny papercuts or cuts from shaving. Which means Donghyuck’s soulmate must be being careful, because everyone gets hurt. And if Donghyuck’s soulmate is being careful, that makes Donghyuck look like an absolute asshole. He wonders what his soulmate’s friends say, if they ask about the injuries. He wonders what his soulmate answers, how his soulmate lies. If they lie, or if they’re honest about having a soulmate. 

Donghyuck thinks he hates his soulmate, only if because he can’t stop thinking about them.

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“I can see that,” Taeyong says under his breath, shaking his head. “Just remember it’s not just you. Sorry that the cards got dealt to you that way, but too bad. Someone else is woven into your life and your actions have consequences.”

Johnny is looking at Taeyong like he’s delivering proverbs, and Donghyuck scoffs, hopping off the table. “Thanks for your oh-so-wise words, hyung. I’ll be sure to keep them in mind next time you send me into the field.”

“Keep it up and I won’t send you out at all,” Taeyong calls after him as he stalks out of the room, ignoring Jaehyun and Hendery behind the bar. He stomps all the way up to his tiny apartment above the club and ignores the throbbing pain from his side. 

Donghyuck falls into bed after changing and brushing his teeth, and sets an alarm for his classes. Maybe doing part-time school at the nearest college wasn’t the smartest idea based on his lifestyle, but Taeyong had pushed him to do it as soon as Donghyuck had so much as mentioned it. College isn’t so bad, he thinks, staring at his mottled ceiling. He only takes two classes twice a week. One is a literature class, some sort of theory thing, and the other is a statistics course that Donghyuck is only taking because Xiaojun promised he’d help him with his homework. And by help he meant to do all of it. Donghyuck’s professor has yet to comment on how he does so well on homework and tests but so abysmally on classwork. 

Morning comes sooner than he’d like, and he downs the whole cup of coffee someone left on the bar downstairs, along with grabbing the folder with his homework on it. “Thanks,” he shouts, and hears a brief response from the back where Xiaojun is likely holed up with his computers. A ten-minute bus ride to campus later, he’s walking into his statistics class exactly seven minutes late, as he does every class. 

The seat he usually claims is taken, and he scowls at the back of the girl’s head, resisting the urge to imagine violent scenarios. Instead he scans the hall and drops into the nearest open chair, shucking the jacket he stole from Jaehyun off and draping it over the back. 

The doors open again, and someone slips in, clutching a coffee cup and ducking his head to try to avoid their professor’s attention. Donghyuck pities him when Professor Yu looks up.

“Mark Lee,” she says, and he stops, sheepishly looking up. “Nice of you to join us.”

Donghyuck makes a note of his name because Mark is really, really fucking cute, especially when he sheepishly rubs the back of his neck, apologizing and sliding into the chair next to Donghyuck, dropping his head to the desk and exhaling heavily, which gives Donghyuck a perfect opportunity to stare. 

Mark Lee has inky, black hair that catches the light and curls over his forehead. His skin is pale, really pale, and Donghyuck finds himself looking between Mark’s hand on his desk and Donghyuck’s own, darker. He entertains the thought of their fingers matched together and then shakes his head to clear the daydream away. Mark has boyish features, big round eyes hidden behind thin-rimmed glasses. Donghyuck traces the slope of his nose, watching his profile as Mark takes notes. Donghyuck doesn’t know what exactly to do with such a sudden fluttering in his chest, but Mark glances at him out of the corner of his eyes and Donghyuck tosses him a smile, watching his nose scrunch up.

Who cares about weird flutters? 

🀗 🀗 🀗

“One of the kids in my statistics class stared at me for the entire hour,” Mark says, dropping onto the couch in his and Jeno’s apartment. “He didn’t even take notes or anything. Just kept looking at me.”

“Weird,” a voice that doesn’t belong to Jeno answers, and Mark tilts his head back to see Jaemin emerge from the kitchen. “Was he cute?”

Mark shrugs. “I mean, I guess so. I’ve never noticed him before. He smelled like smoke though. I hope he doesn’t sit next to me again or if he does, wears some cologne or something next time.”

Jaemin drapes himself over the back of the couch and hums. “Well, I’d probably stare at you too. You’re so cute. Are you sure you don’t want to-”

“I don’t want to have a threesome with you and Jeno,” Mark interrupts, rolling his eyes and Jaemin laughs.

Jeno peeks out of his bedroom, frowning. “Jaemin, stop asking Mark if he’ll have a threesome. I’m pretty sure that counts as workplace harassment.”

“Well,” Jaemin says, bounding over to Jeno instead. “It can’t be workplace harassment if we aren’t at work. So until Friday I can harass him as much as I want.” A timer goes off in the kitchen and Jaemin runs to keep something from burning.

“Sorry,” Jeno says, sitting on the couch next to Mark and grinning. “Anyways, what about this kid in stats staring?”

Mark shrugs and waves his hand. “I think he usually sits across the hall since I haven’t noticed him before. He just kept looking at me. I don’t know why. He didn’t even look away when I looked at him.”

“Maybe Jaemin is right,” Jeno says, ignoring the victorious shout from the kitchen. “You are pretty cute.”

“Why are all my friends flirting with me today?” Mark stares at the ceiling and closes his eyes. “Maybe. He was really pretty. Maybe next time I’ll stare back.”

“That sure is a plan.”

There’s a knock at the door and then the keypad beeps, Chenle and Jisung practically falling through the door, carrying bags of takeout.

“Jisung bought dinner!”

“Chenle stole my wallet and paid for dinner!”

“Great,” Jaemin says, dropping a plate full of brownies on the table. “Dessert’s ready!”

The topic is dropped, and Mark doesn’t think about it again until Thursday when the same boy as before sits next to him. Any plan of staring back at him vanishes from Mark’s mind as soon as he sits down, seven minutes late. Mark notices that he eases carefully into his chair, tense and then winces as he twists to take off his jacket. Mark relates, the bruise on his side throbbing. And then Professor Yu begins her lecture, and he turns back to his notes. 

“Lee Donghyuck,” she says, and the boy looks up.

“Yes, Professor?”

“Can you come demonstrate how you got the confidence interval for question five?”

He— Donghyuck— shakes his head. “Sorry, Professor, I didn’t bring my notes with me today.”

Mark stares at him. Not bringing your notes is a sorry excuse for not knowing how to do a formula. Somehow Professor Yu lets it go and calls on another student, who stumbles his way through the problem. Donghyuck pulls a notebook out of his backpack and begins to doodle in the margins of the paper. He must notice Mark staring because he glances up, and then grins. 

“Not a lie if I don’t have any notes to begin with,” he says, and Mark blinks.

“Uh, right.”

🀩 🀩 🀩

Mark Lee, Donghyuck decides, despite only having spoken to him once, is kind of clueless. It only makes him cuter though, and Donghyuck makes a resolution to get Mark to look back at him at least once. He starts actually combing his hair before class and makes sure to catch his eye at least once every class. He’s determined.

“He’s so cute,” he says dreamily, and Doyoung rolls his eyes.

“Yes, tell me again about the boy in statistics. Riveting, how nothing has changed since twenty minutes ago.”

“His eyes are so sparkly,” Donghyuck sighs, resting his chin in his hand. “And his hair looks so soft.”

“Oh my god,” Doyoung mutters, typing some more numbers into the excel sheet that Donghyuck was supposed to be helping with. “Why don’t you just talk to him?”

“Why would I do that? The game is so much more interesting. He’s so cute when he’s confused, which is like most of the time.” 

Doyoung pinches his nose between his fingers. “If you aren’t going to help me, you might as well go see if Johnny needs anything at the front of house.”

He hasn’t even finished his sentence before Donghyuck is out of his chair, pressing a messy kiss to his cheek. “Will do, hyung!” Doyoung pushes his face away and mutters some more under his breath. 

Johnny does need help, and gets Donghyuck to help him polish glasses for the few customers they have on a Thursday night. Johnny is much more willing to indulge him in his crush.

“I think you should ask him out.”

Donghyuck groans. “Hyung, no! That’s not interesting.”

Johnny raises an eyebrow at him, handing him a glass. “Are complicated feelings because of misunderstandings and miscommunication interesting?”

“Stop being right.” Donghyuck snatches the glass with a huff and aggressively wipes it dry. “It’s not like it’s gonna go anywhere anyways. He’s probably straight and a goody-two-shoes or something. I just think he’s cute.”

The other shrugs, handing him another glass. “All right, if you say so.” His attention is shifted to Ten emerging from the back, glassy eyes and flushed skin. Donghyuck tunes him out as soon as he opens his mouth and says something about whatever Yuta gave him. 

It’ll be fine. Mark is cute, teasing him is fun, and once the semester is over, he won’t ever see him again. 

🀝 🀝 🀝

Mark spends his weekends at the convenience store he and Jaemin work at. It’s pretty small and not very busy but the owner is really nice and pays them well. Mark’s not sure why Seulgi decided to buy and open a convenience store but he won’t complain. She’s nice and lets Mark study for exams during his shifts as long as inventory is finished.

He clicks his pen against the counter, watching the hands on the clock over the door tick slowly towards two a.m. and freedom. The fluorescent lights flicker and thrum. Mark chews on the end of his pen and pushes his production homework to the side. He leans back, stretching his arms above his head until his joints pop.

All of a sudden, the door bursts open and someone quite literally falls into the store, springing to their feet and shoving the door closed, frantically grabbing an umbrella and shoving it into the handle. The figure backs away from the door before ducking into an aisle. The pen falls out of Mark’s mouth and clatters to the countertop loudly.

“Fuck,” the figure- boy, hisses, wildly looking over at Mark. “Be louder, why don’t you? Shit.”

“Uh,” Mark says, blinking. “Um- C-can I…? Help you? Um? We- we’re- we’re having a uh, sale, on- um, jellies, so- uh, if you buy, like, more… than… one, you? You get-”

“I don’t care about the jellies, Mark Lee,” the guy says, and Mark stares. “I just need somewhere to hang out for a minute.”

_He knows my name. He knows my name and I’m going to die,_ Mark thinks, frozen. “Am I going to die?”

“What? No? Why would you die?”

“Um, are you… going to like, kill me? Uh, we- we don’t really have much uh, cash, if this is a robbery?”

“I’m- what?”

“I- I can’t get into the safe, so, um, really, it’s not worth your time, and uh, it’d really suck if you stole anything because like, I already finished inventory so… please don’t?”

The boy stares at Mark and there’s something very familiar about him. “Are you asking me not to rob you? Did you just say please?”

“...Yes?”

“Unbelievable,” the guy says, and he pushes the hood of his black sweatshirt off. “You’re so cute.”

“Donghyuck?” Mark almost falls over even though he’s pressed up against the wall, having backed up over the course of the conversation. “What- uh?” 

Donghyuck runs his hand through his silver hair, messing up the curls, and grins, taking the mask covering the lower half of his face off. Mark’s brain malfunctions. “The one and only. I didn’t know you worked here!”

“I- yeah,” he says weakly, feeling his knees shake. “Um, wh-what can I help? You with, uh, tonight?”

“You stutter a lot when you’re nervous,” Donghyuck observes, glancing out the glass door before stepping up to the till. Mark can feel his heart rate accelerate.

“I- I’m still not 100% sure you’re not about to kill me,” Mark replies, eyeing Donghyuck’s hands as he sticks them in his pockets. “Or- uh, steal all the money in this store, which, again, please don’t. Kill me or steal. I guess.”

“I’m not going to kill you! Oh my god, why would I kill you?” Donghyuck laughs, grabbing a chocolate bar and pulling some change from his pocket. “Shit. I’m like two hundred won short. Will you give me a discount? Since we’re friends?”

“We’re friends?” Mark’s head spins. “Sorry, uh, I don’t get friend discounts. If you aren’t going to kill me or steal, what- what are you doing here? And uh, what was with the umbrella? Can you please open the door? What if- a, a customer needs… milk? Or something?”

Donghyuck stares at him. “You’re so cute. Fuck. I can’t open the door until I’m sure the guys chasing me are gone. Sorry.”

“Chasing you,” Mark repeats faintly.

“Yeah. No worries though! I’m much faster than those dumb thugs. I don’t think they even saw me come in. Hopefully Ten got away. I told him he shouldn’t fuck with those guys. They looked like no good. But, of course, he didn’t listen.” Donghyuck unwraps the candy bar and shoves it into his mouth.

“You didn’t pay-”

“Anyways,” the other says over him, “I should be almost clear. Usually I’d try to take them on but like, I think my ribs are still bruised and one of them had a knife. So I didn’t want to take any chances.”

“Knife?”

Donghyuck squints at him. “You look like you’re going to pass out.”

“I feel like I’m going to pass out,” Mark says. “I think I’m going to have a heart attack.”

Donghyuck waves his hand in front of Mark’s face. “Stay with me. Can’t have my only alibi unconscious. Didn’t mean to freak you out! So sorry. I’ll get going. I’ll see you in class on Tuesday!” With that, he turns, drops the umbrella back in the bin next to the door, and leaves. Mark stares after him.

🀟 🀟 🀟

“He’s so cute! He kept stuttering and looking at me with those big eyes. He was wearing glasses, hyung.”

Doyoung sighs. “It sounds like you scared the shit outta him, Hyuck.”

“He’s fine! He’s so fine. He had his hair down, hyung, looked so soft. Fuck. I’ve got a heart boner.”

“Disgusting,” Doyoung mutters, and shakes his head. “Better figure out how to apologize to him if you ever want to speak to him again.”

Donghyuck pouts. “Why should I apologize?”

“I don’t know, maybe because you burst into his workplace at 2am dressed in all black with your face covered, barricaded the door, called him by name, didn’t pay for a candy bar— which means you did steal— and then left without giving an actual explanation. Plus, you’ve never really spoken to him before.”

“Well,” Donghyuck says with a grin, ignoring Doyoung’s long-suffering sigh, “now’s my chance to change that. Say, hyung, don’t you get a headache from all that eye-rolling you do?”

He darts out of the backroom, laughing, as Doyoung chases after him with a shout. 

Tuesday can absolutely not come fast enough. Donghyuck actually sits down and helps Doyoung despite the older’s suspicious looks (maybe because he feels bad. Maybe because he doesn’t have anything else to do and Doyoung, at least, has some good one-liners). Taeil checks his ribs on Monday and deems him acceptably healed enough to go out with the rest of the gang and Donghyuck nearly cries from relief.

Mark is not in their statistics class. Donghyuck notices this immediately and frowns. He drops into his chair and spends all class wondering why. Maybe he’s sick? Maybe Donghyuck scared him so much he dropped out of school and moved away. 

Mark is in their statistics class on Thursday. However, he’s not in his usual seat. He’s sitting on the other side of the lecture hall, right in the middle of a row with students on either side of him. He glances up as Donghyuck walks into class seven minutes late and turns right back to his books, shoulders tense. Donghyuck frowns.

“He’s not talking to me, hyung,” he whines to Jaehyun quietly on Friday. Jaehyun glances at him.

“Shh.”

“Hyung, listen! He wasn’t even in his usual seat.”

“Shut up, Hyuck,” Sicheng hisses, startling Donghyuck. “We’re supposed to be sneaking in. Leave your boy troubles in the car.”

“Jungwoo would listen to me,” Donghyuck bemoans and flinches as an alarm sounds from within the darkened building they’re crouched outside of.

“Shit,” Jaehyun says, sighing. “So much for stealth.”

“I don’t know what I did wrong,” Donghyuck complains to Taeil, gritting his teeth as the doctor wipes rubbing alcohol over the cut on his arm. “I said sorry! I didn’t mean to scare him. Have I told you how cute he is?”

“You have,” Taeil says, focused on wrapping gauze around his forearm. “Several times.” He carefully secures a bandage over it, checking the edges, and puts his supplies away. “I think you should say sorry again. It probably wasn’t sincere and you probably tossed it over your shoulder as you left.”

“I hate it when you guys are right.” Donghyuck pouts. “But how do I get him to talk to me if he’s ignoring me?”

“You could go to where he works again. Pay for the candy bar you stole last time.”

“You’re a genius, hyung,” Donghyuck says, grinning. “Do you have two hundred won I could borrow?”

🀒 🀒 🀒

Mark is not ignoring Donghyuck.

He’s not. To be ignoring means he was paying attention to him in the first place and he wasn’t.

“You’re lying,” Jaemin points out bluntly, pointing a price gun at Mark from across the aisle. “You were absolutely paying attention to him.”

“Was not.”

“Okay, for the sake of this argument, you were not paying attention to him. Still, I get why you wouldn’t want to sit next to him. He might be an axe murderer or something.”

“He didn’t have an axe.”

“Gasp! Even worse, a hand murderer.”

“What the fuck does that even mean?” Mark groans, shoving the new bags of chips on the shelf next to the shrimp ones. “That’s not the point. I can tell he’s still looking at me even though I’m sitting further away.”

“You’re still cute so I still get it,” Jaemin says, shrugging when Mark glares at him. “I dunno. Maybe he’s not a murderer. He hasn’t killed the witness yet, the witness being you.”

“Reassuring.”

The bell over the door dings, and Jaemin straightens up to head over to the counter.

“Hi! Can I help you?”

“Uh, yeah, just this, I guess. Are you the only one working tonight?”

_Shit._ Mark peeks over the top of the aisle and flinches at the sight of messy silver curls. He frantically tries to catch Jaemin’s eye, shaking his head desperately. Jaemin briefly makes eye contact and then his face spreads into the most pleasant, shittiest grin Mark has ever seen.

“No! My coworker Mark is around here somewhere. He was stocking the chips, I think.”

Mark beelines for the drinks section. Maybe if he climbs straight into the freezers Donghyuck will leave. 

“Oh! Mark! There you are.”

_Fuck you, Na Jaemin._ Mark busies himself with mentally cursing at Jaemin in as many colorful ways as he can imagine and turns slowly, forcing a smile. 

“Yes, Na Jaemin-ssi?” He thinks he sees Jaemin barely flinch, but the grin stays put.

“Someone’s asking about you, Mark-hyung.”

“Mark!”

Donghyuck smiles brightly and Mark briefly short circuits because it’s almost midnight and the sun may as well have just risen inside the store. Jaemin, that bitch, laughs. 

“I have a few things I need to organize in the back. I’ll let Mark ring you up for this.” And with that, he leaves, winking at Mark as soon as he’s out of Donghyuck’s line of vision.

“I came to pay for that candy bar,” Donghyuck says, slamming two hundred won on the counter and Mark stares at the two coins.

“The candy bar was one thousand two hundred won.”

“Right.”

“You’ve now paid two hundred won for it.”

“Exactly.” The smile grows and Mark wonders if Donghyuck knows how to do math or if he knows that just by smiling he can render Mark lost for words.

“That’s- you still owe a thousand won.”

“Really?” Donghyuck pouts dramatically. “Well, I can just give it to you during class. You’ll be there, right? I missed you. Why’d you change seats?”

Mark can practically sense Jaemin eavesdropping just behind the staff door. “Um. That’s not how buying things works.” 

“I don’t have my wallet with me.” 

Mark stares at him, stares at the outline of a wallet in Donghyuck’s pocket, and all he says when he opens his mouth is: “You missed me?”

Donghyuck blinks, mouth snapping shut. “I- uh, yes?”

“Oh.” Mark feels his face heat up and pretends to very carefully examine the cash register. 

“Why’d you move seats?”

“Um.”

“And don’t lie, I’ll know if you’re lying,” Donghyuck says, leaning over the counter into Mark’s space. He shifts away.

“Not gonna lie I uh, was pretty spooked from last week. What if you decided you didn’t want any witnesses? Sorry. That’s not nice. You’re probably not a murderer.”

Donghyuck laughs menacingly. “Don’t be so sure.”

Mark moves so fast he accidentally bangs his bandaged arm on the register, flailing and backing up. “Fuck, shit,” he swears, grabbing at his forearm. He woke up with a new cut and has spent all day wondering what happened to his soulmate. Donghyuck twitches, and then drops to the floor laughing.

“I’m not- I’m not a murderer- oh, fuck, Mark you’re so funny. I’m not gonna kill you! I swear. Ah, shit, hahaha.”

“You didn’t explain what you were doing when you burst into my work at ass early, wearing all black and talking about someone chasing you with a knife,” Mark says defensively. “You can’t blame me. Fucking freaked me out, man.”

“I’m sorry.” Donghyuck doesn’t sound very sorry. “But I promise I was never going to murder you. Are you okay? Don’t sue me for emotional trauma or anything.”

“I’m too broke for a lawyer but I will send you an invoice from my therapist for this,” Mark grumbles, and Donghyuck straightens up, a crooked grin on his lips that Mark vaguely notes are very soft-looking.

“Fine. But sit next to me in class again, yeah? I need someone to make Professor Yu’s lectures bearable. See you then!” Donghyuck doesn’t wait for him to answer before turning and leaving with a wave. 

Jaemin emerges from the back, not a minute later. “So that’s Donghyuck, huh?”

“Yep.”

“He’s cute. Maybe he’d be interested in joining Jeno and I-”

Mark smacks a hand over Jaemin’s mouth and sighs.

He decides to sit back in his usual seat on Tuesday. Donghyuck positively lights up when he sees him, and Mark thinks maybe getting murdered wouldn’t be so bad, if Donghyuck looks like that. The vaguely Chenle-sounding voice in his head says, _that’s really gay._ And maybe Mark agrees.

He spends the class trying to be subtle about watching Donghyuck. He’s really pretty, tan skin shining golden in the faint sunlight coming through the windows. Mark looks at his own fingers, pale, and allows himself to imagine them next to each other. 

Donghyuck catches his arm when class is over. “Look, I know I said I was gonna give you that thousand won today, and I’m really sorry but I forgot my wallet. Next time?”

“Sure,” Mark says, deciding at this moment that the thousand won doesn’t matter. He already snuck a bill into the till the other night. “Next time.”

In his defense, he wasn’t lying. The barista really did make too much and did just give him an extra coffee.

Donghyuck stares up at him blearily, half asleep in his seat. “What?”

“The- there was extra, so the barista just gave me an extra one. And uh, you look like you could use it. Are you studying?”

“Something like that,” Donghyuck says, yawning and closing the book he was dozing on. “Thanks, hyung.”

Mark ignores the heat he can feel climbing into his cheeks, amplified by their fingers brushing together when he hands over the coffee. “Um, sure. No problem. Do you want any help?”

“Help?”

“Yeah.” Mark waves his hands. “Uh, it seems like you always do really well on homework but not as much during class? So… if you want, I could help you. Study, I mean.”

“I’d like that.” And maybe it’s because he’s sleepy, or maybe it’s just because he’s grateful, but Donghyuck’s smile is soft and gentle and Mark would really like to wrap him in blankets and cuddle with him maybe in front of his favorite movie. What kind of movies does Donghyuck like? He should ask-

His foot catches on the edge of a table and he tips forward, barely catching his balance with a hand planted on the table. His coffee, however, is not so lucky, and spills over his hand and down his wrist. Mark hisses in pain, flicking the hot liquid off and wiping it away with his sleeve.

“Shit,” he hears, and looks up at Donghyuck, staring at him with wide eyes.

“Ah- I’m okay, no worries. It’s not that bad…” He trails off when he sees Donghyuck raise his own hand, faintly turning red.

“Mark,” Donghyuck breathes, and the whole world tilts a little bit on its axis. 

“Are you- did you…?”

Donghyuck looks at him for another minute, and Mark ignores the pain in favor of looking back.

“Um-” He doesn’t get to finish, because Donghyuck is out of his chair and shaking his head.

“Sorry. I can’t. I gotta go. I’m- I’m really sorry. Fuck. I’m- I have to leave. I-” Donghyuck cuts himself off and, with one last glance at Mark’s hand, runs out of the library, leaving Mark with a burnt hand and a weird tug in his chest trying to follow his soulmate out of the building. 

He doesn’t listen to it, and instead cleans up the coffee robotically, wiping it up with extra napkins he keeps in his backpack. He successfully manages to stay composed, if numb, until he shuts the door to his apartment and, ignoring Jeno and Jaemin’s worried questions, slides to the floor.

Only then, does he let himself cry.

🀃 🀃 🀃

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> win work on WMSR challenge failed  
> depending on how the next chapter goes the rating may be pushed up to E we will see
> 
> more notes: the mahjong tiles all have meanings! only if anyone cares but here they are summarized and in order:  
> 🀢plum - innocence  
> 🀗bamboo 8 - unexpected events  
> 🀩winter - intellectual pursuits  
> 🀝circles 5 - surprise luck and fortune  
> 🀟circles 7 - short gain through hectic work, short-lasting  
> 🀒bamboo 3 - troubling, ambition higher than reach  
> 🀃north - difficult moments
> 
> thanks for reading! <3 feedback and comments always appreciated  
> 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im so sorry i am a liar this is gonna be three chapters because i split it for ~dramatic effect~  
> this is also... very late. i'm sorry :(  
> hopefully i'll have the last chapter up soon!!! i have most of it planned except for one very small but maybe very big detail but that'll work itself out when i get there, i guess.
> 
> some warnings for self-inflicted injury and some violence! not too much but its there ^u^  
> enjoy!!

“I’m gonna beat the shit out of him,” Jaemin announces, and Jeno shushes him loudly.

“No, because that would just hurt Mark.”

Mark sighs, rolling over in bed and pushing his covers off. “I can hear you.”

“I wasn’t trying to be sneaky,” Jaemin answers, shrugging when Jeno glares at him half-heartedly. “I’m serious. What a dickbag. I thought he was fun when he was making fun of you in the convenience store but now he’s just an asshole.” He crosses into Mark’s room, plopping onto his bed and pulling Mark’s head into his lap. Mark doesn’t bother struggling. 

“It’s fine.”

“It’s not fine,” Jeno says quietly, leaning against the doorway. “You just found out he’s your soulmate and then he just books it? After all the shit he’s put you through your whole life?”

“Don’t say that. We don’t know what he’s been through,” Mark mumbles, even though a part of him agrees. 

Jaemin rolls his eyes. “Even so, he owes you an explanation. Plus,” he says, grabbing Mark’s arm before he can pull it away and pushing his sleeve up. “It hasn’t even been three hours and look.”

Mark yanks his hand back, tucking it back into the covers to hide the mottled bruising and shallow scrapes covering his knuckles. “Maybe he fell.”

“Fist first into a concrete wall?” Jeno is gentler than Jaemin when he comes into the room and takes Mark’s wrist carefully. “Mark, and I’m saying this as your best friend who knows more than anyone what he’s put you through, your soulmate is being mean. You can feel it, can’t you?”

“Feel what? I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Mark twists out of Jaemin’s lap and burrows further into the sheets. Maybe if he wraps the blankets tight enough he can ignore the pain from his hand, both from the lingering burn and now this. Maybe he won’t have to come to terms with the out-of-place anger simmering in his chest and the still-present craving to find Donghyuck pulling at his heart or the lingering thought in his mind that his soulmate hates him.

Jeno sighs and stands, taking Jaemin with him. “I’m not gonna push you because this is a lot to have shoved on you in one afternoon. But I’m only gonna hold Chenle and Jisung off for another like, six hours before I tell them.”

“Thanks.” Mark loves his friends, he really does, but right now he’d rather just stew in silence and try to sort out the mess in his head. Jaemin spares him one more look before disappearing out into the hallway, presumably to tell Jeno more about how he’d like to go have some words with Donghyuck and Jeno inevitably calming him down. 

He’s left alone with an injured hand that’s not his, and Mark can barely feel the pain underneath the turmoil. 

🀂 🀂 🀂

“Stop! Donghyuck, stop it!”

Donghyuck ignores Renjun’s shouting, pulling his arm back to hit the wall again. He never makes contact, because suddenly Ten is holding his fist, a deep frown on his face. 

“Donghyuck-”

“Let go of me,” Donghyuck practically growls, pushing him off. “Let- let go!”

Ten shakes his head, and Donghyuck feels the anger rising in his chest. “No, Hyuck-” He doesn’t get further before Donghyuck swings at him, vision swimming. His hand hurts.

Ten dodges, and then it’s Renjun in front of him, standing with his hands on his hips.

“Stop it, Donghyuck.” He doesn’t flinch at all when Donghyuck stops centimeters from his nose, breathing heavily. He tightens his fingers, the skin on his knuckles protesting and cracking until one of the scrapes splits and a drop of blood rolls over his skin.

“Don’t tell me what to do,” he grits out, holding his best friend’s gaze. Renjun scoffs at him. 

“Fine. Hit me. Hit the wall again. Keep fucking up your soulmate’s night. Keep bruising him and making him bleed because he got stuck with the bad luck of being your soulmate.”

“Shut up,” Donghyuck yells, tears welling up in his eyes and he’ll be damned if they fall. “It’s not my fault! I didn’t choose to have a soulmate! I didn’t want this! I don’t!” Renjun’s eyes narrow and then he’s taking Donghyuck’s wrist, twisting on his heel and dragging him along. “Stop- Let- let go of me, Renjun-”

“You hate it so much? You hate him? All right. Show him.” He spins, aiming Donghyuck’s fist at the concrete, much faster than how Donghyuck had swung at the wall immediately upon stumbling through the back entryway into The City. 

And maybe it’s the thought of Mark’s big eyes going wide, staring at him full of hope with a burnt hand, or maybe it’s the tiny voice in his head that is overjoyed at finally finding his soulmate, or maybe it’s honestly just that he doesn’t want Taeil to bench him again because of broken fingers, but he moves, avoiding hitting his knuckles against the wall again. “Don’t- Stop it.” He drops into a crouch and tucks his hand into his chest, ignoring the blood staining his shirt. “Stop.”

He vaguely registers Ten whispering to Renjun and then leaving. There’s a sigh, and then Renjun’s squatting next to him. “Come on. Let’s go upstairs.”

Donghyuck would like for anything else in the world to happen other than have to go have a feelings talk with Renjun but the other obviously won’t be letting this go. He just lets him pull him up, caught between shrugging him off and leaning closer. In the end, he just follows Renjun up to his apartment, watching him key in his door code, shaking his head at Donghyuck when he just kicks his shoes off in a pile. 

“So.”

“Since when did you become my therapist,” Donghyuck grumbles, dropping onto his ratty couch that Taeyong keeps asking if he wants to replace. Donghyuck likes his shitty couch, thank you very much.

“I’m not a therapist but I am the closest to a best friend you’ll let yourself have.”

Donghyuck frowns at him. “Now’s not the time to psychoanalyze my issues.”

“Au contraire, I think it’s the perfect time to psychoanalyze your issues because you just spent half an hour punching the wall because you found your soulmate,” Renjun says, infuriatingly right.

“You’ve been spending too much time with Yangyang,” Donghyuck deflects, sinking further into the cushions and Renjun rolls his eyes.

“Yangyang speaks German, not French. And stop trying to change the subject. Why are you so mad?”

“I’m not- I’m not mad,” he finally settles on, closing his eyes. “I don’t know what I feel. I didn’t really think about what it’d be like when I’d meet him. I just know- knew I didn’t want to.”

Renjun nods. “Okay. What happened? Like, did he say something? How’d it happen?”

“I was in the library pretending to study and he gave me a cup of coffee that he said he had gotten because the barista had given him extra. I don’t know if that’s true but it doesn’t matter. Then he stumbled, or something, and spilled it on his hand and of course, I felt it, that shit was basically boiling. And then,” Donghyuck takes a deep breath, hoping to keep the tears at bay, “he looked at me like he’d just gotten the best Christmas present ever, Renjun. Like the clouds parted on a rainy day and the sun came out and birds were singing and shit. And then I ran. Turned around and left. And…” he blinks, ignoring the solitary wet streak rolling down his cheek. “I came here, and I didn’t know what to do with myself, so I hit the wall. A few times, until it hurt. And Mark- he’s kind of a baby so he’s probably really upset. Fuck, Renjun, I’ve fucked this one up.” He feels a cool dampness on his hand and looks down at Renjun carefully wiping the dried blood off his fist, wrapping a bandage around his knuckles. “I don’t know what to do.”

Renjun finishes patching him up and then sits on the couch next to him. “Geez, Hyuck, I know you’re freaked out but that’s- that’s not cool.”

“How eloquent,” Donghyuck says, flexing his fingers and letting the pain spread until Renjun tsks and flattens his hand. 

“Stop doing that. You’re hurting him. I’m getting to it.” He sighs. “As long as we’ve been friends you’ve been insistent that you didn’t ever want to meet your soulmate because then you’d have to look at the person you’ve been hurting your whole life-”

“I did not say that-”

“-and know that they’ve— he’s— been trying his whole life to keep you safe. Because if you met him he’d finally see who the asshole is who’s been getting bruised and cut up and beaten since he was in middle school. When he broke his leg, I remember you were mad but there was part of you that was just a tiny bit satisfied that he’d finally hurt you back.”

“I hate you.”

“Because I’m right.” Renjun’s not one for skinship but he moves closer anyways. Donghyuck appreciates the effort. “You can’t run from this one, Donghyuck. I know you want to but you can’t.”

“Why not?” Donghyuck whines, leaning onto his best friend who knows him way too well. 

“He’s gonna be your soulmate whether you run away or not,” Renjun says. “You could run away and never see him again but he’s still gonna feel it every time you stub your fucking toe. And you know it only gets stronger with distance.”

“I don’t know what to do,” Donghyuck repeats quieter. “How am I supposed to face him after this?” He gestures with his bandaged hand. “How can I look him in the eye knowing how much I’ve hurt him?”

“ I know you’re scared he’s going to hate you,” Renjun answers gently. “But at the very least you owe him an apology and an explanation. Let him decide if he hates you or not. Don’t try and decide for him.”

🀕 🀕 🀕

Mark doesn’t want to go to class.

“You have to.”

“No, I don’t.”

“You do,” Jeno says, pulling on Mark’s arm until he sits up. “You need that attendance credit.”

“Or I could not, fail out of the class, and never see Donghyuck again? That sounds better.”

“As your best friend, you’ve been sitting in your bed for two days and Jaemin is going to stop feeling gracious enough to cook you meals and leave them on your table while you pretend to sleep soon. You need to go to class.”

Mark flinches. “But what if he’s there?”

Jeno hands him a plate with two pancakes on it, which is the only food Jeno is really good at making. Even Jaemin likes Jeno’s pancakes, and not just because he’s whipped. “Then sit somewhere else and don’t speak to him. Or do, if you want to, I guess. If I were you I’d wait until he comes up to you. But don’t let your inconsiderate soulmate get in the way of you doing things. You’ve been letting him do that for most of your life.”

“Thanks,” Mark says around a mouthful of buttermilk goodness. “You’re right.”

Jeno nods, patting him on the back a few times for good measure. “Yeah. You got this, Mark Lee.”

He don’t got this, Mark decides, staring at the doors to his lecture hall. The mere thought of having to be in the same room as Donghyuck has him frozen, thinking about the little scrapes on his hand. He’s not sure why Donghyuck clearly hates him so much, or at least hates being his soulmate so much. Jeno and Jaemin are still mad about it, but the tiny, hopeful part of Mark hopes that Donghyuck was just surprised. 

That tiny part is dwarfed by the part that says his soulmate definitely hates him and intentionally tried to let him know. And even that part isn’t mad, just very, very sad.

The bell signifying the beginning of class rings and Mark’s feet instinctively carry him into the hall quickly with the throng of students, quickly finding a seat all the way at the front, right in front of Professor Yu. He waits with bated breath as seven minutes pass, and then exhales in relief when the doors don’t open and Donghyuck doesn’t walk in.

Donghyuck doesn’t show up to class the next week either. 

The next time Mark sees him is outside the convenience store and he has to beg Jaemin to not go outside and fight him right there. Jaemin grumbles some very mean words and then ushers Mark into the back and out of sight. Donghyuck leaves after about an hour.

He’s there the next night and then the next, and it rains and he still stands there just looking, hands shoved in his pockets, silver curls plastered to his forehead. On the third night, Mark looks back, standing behind the register and staring back at him. It’s cold and wet and Mark fights against the part of him that wants to take him an umbrella or worse, bring him in and get him something warm to drink. 

It seems like Donghyuck is sorry, maybe, because Mark has been miraculously injury-free for the past two weeks. So he looks back.

The fourth night, Donghyuck comes inside. Mark watches him come in, awkward and hesitant. 

“Hey Mark are we out of those green-” Jaemin cuts off whatever he was saying when he sees Donghyuck, who looks like he’s fighting not to go right back out the door. Mark’s quick enough to stop Jaemin with a hand on his chest but not fast enough to tell him to shut up. “What the fuck are you doing here?”

“Jaemin-”

“No seriously,” Jaemin says, pushing Mark’s hand away. He’s terrifying when he’s angry, all cold lines and sharp angles. “What the fuck are you here for? The only thing holding me back from hitting you right now is that it’d hurt Mark and well, I think you do enough of that on your own.”

Donghyuck flinches, and Mark aches. “Jaemin-”

“You’re right,” Donghyuck says quietly, looking so, so small in his black hoodie. “I deserve it. I’m sorry. Can we talk?” he asks Mark with tired eyes that lack their usual brightness. Mark nods before Jaemin can protest, and then follows Donghyuck just outside, waving Jaemin off.

They stand in silence for a moment before speaking at the same time.

“Why did you run?”

“I mean it.”

Mark clamps his mouth shut, lips pressed together. Donghyuck runs a hand through his hair and doesn’t make eye contact.

“Sorry. I’m shit at apologies. Also, I don’t know what to tell you. I’m sorry I ran. And,” he pauses and Mark just waits. Donghyuck exhales. “I’m sorry for-” he gestures at Mark’s hand. “Doing that. It was shitty of me.”

Mark stares at Donghyuck’s hand, at the bandage covering his knuckles. “Are you okay?” He asks despite himself. If his scrapes aren’t as bad as his soulmate's they must be pretty nasty. Donghyuck blinks at him.

“Um. Yes. Are you?”

Mark nods. “So why did you leave?”

“It’s- it’s kind of hard to explain.”

“Try me,” Mark says humorlessly. “I’ve been dealing with bruises and cuts that aren’t mine for years. Can’t be worse than that.” He doesn’t mean to be so snappy, but it’s kind of hard not to. Donghyuck draws his shoulders in and it makes Mark soften a bit. “I- I’m not mad, you know. About the injuries.”

“What?” Donghyuck’s eyes snap up to him. “What? Why not? I- I totally understand if you are, I mean, it’s…” he trails off for just a moment and takes a deep breath. “You really tried to not get hurt didn’t you? All this time.”

Mark laughs quietly, shrugging. “Uh, yeah. I just never knew why, you know? If I got hurt I thought maybe it might make your life harder. The worst was when I-”

“When you broke your leg,” Donghyuck finishes with a half-smile. “I was furious. How hypocritical of me.”

“I cried for like an hour after the x-ray,” Mark says, feeling his face turn red at the admission. Oh well. “Couldn’t stop thinking of if it would be my fault if something happened to you because of a messed-up leg.”

“Nothing happened except for a very angry me hobbling around-” he pauses. “Around my friends.”

“Sounds terrifying.”

Donghyuck punches his arm lightly and Mark flinches, laughing. “It wasn’t funny! My hyungs wouldn’t stop laughing at me.”

“If you hit me any harder you’re just gonna end up with a bruise on your own arm,” Mark points out wryly, and Donghyuck’s expression shifts radically.

“Shit. Sorry. Did I- are you hurt? I’m not used to uh, holding back?”

Mark decides to ask about that later. “It’s fine, you’ve given me worse.”

“How long are you going to hold this over me?” Donghyuck pouts dramatically.

“Forever, probably,” Mark answers, grinning. “I still have a lot of questions for you but it’s really fucking cold and I’m supposed to be on shift so uh… can we go inside?”

“Is your friend with the pink hair going to kill me?” Donghyuck eyes Jaemin wearily and Mark pretends to think it over.

“Probably not. I don’t think he was lying though when he said he wouldn’t hit you because of the uh, soulmate thing. You should be more wary of his soulmate.” Donghyuck pales just barely and Mark laughs again. “Just kidding. Jaemin won’t hurt you. Neither will Jeno.”

“Astonishing vote of confidence,” Donghyuck mutters, and then follows Mark through the door. 

Jaemin squints at them, frowning. Mark shrugs. Jaemin’s frown deepens and he minisculely tilts his head toward Donghyuck without breaking eye contact with Mark. He shrugs again and the crease between Jaemin’s eyebrows smooths out.

“You’re Donghyuck, right? Markie’s soulmate?”

“Jaemin,” Mark says warningly, and Jaemin grins.

“Sorry, Markie-hyung’s soulmate.” 

“Um, yes.”

Jaemin leans over the counter menacingly and Mark would not want to be Donghyuck at this moment as Jaemin stares him down with narrowed eyes. “The person who is the reason behind our sweet Mark’s current bruised knuckles?”

Donghyuck winces and looks at Mark as if asking for help that Mark is not going to give. He might not be mad, per se, but that doesn’t mean he isn’t hurt and it’s pretty satisfying to watch Donghyuck squirm under Jaemin’s glare. “Um, yes. I apologized?” He tilts the end up as if making it a question will let him off.

“Hmm.” Jaemin straightens up and pulls his phone out of his pocket, scrolling through his chats. “Make yourself available tomorrow night at, let’s say, 8. We’re going to have a nice family dinner.”

“What?”

“You heard me. Mark will tell you the details. Anyways, I’m off. Have fun with the rest of your shift, Mark!” Jaemin grabs his bag from under the counter and attempts to kiss Mark’s cheek, falling just short when Mark dodges, grimacing. 

“Go home. To your own home, not mine.”

“Jeno’s expecting me,” Jaemin answers with a grin. “Don’t worry, I’m sure we’ll be finished by like, 1:30. Donghyuck, if you’re free you’re welcome to jo-”

“Out!” Mark shoves him out the door, shouting over him. Jaemin laughs, waves, and then it’s just Mark and Donghyuck in the empty store, fluorescent lights flickering. 

“I think,” Donghyuck says, and Mark holds his breath for a moment before Donghyuck grins. “I think he’s gonna get along really well with Renjun.”

🀔 🀔 🀔

“Holy shit, hyung, I just about shit my pants.”  
“Gross,” Doyoung says, staring at the computer screen over Xiaojun’s shoulder. “Please go bother Johnny about this.”

“Johnny told me to come bother you about it.” Johnny did no such thing, but it’s more fun to see Doyoung grit his teeth and sigh. Plus, Johnny will back him up.

“Fine. So are you going to go have a quote-unquote, ‘family dinner’ with your soulmate and his soulmate best friends?”

“Of course,” Donghyuck says with a grin, and Xiaojun gives him a high five without even looking up. “Mark even gave me his phone number.”

“You went through quite the 180 on this,” Doyoung says, finally looking back at Donghyuck with a raised eyebrow. “Just the other week you were punching the wall on purpose.”

“But that was the other week, and this week, I learned Mark’s friends call him Markie, and he cried for an hour when he broke his leg because he was worried about me. Me! He was worried, hyung.” Donghyuck swoons dramatically over the couch in Xiaojun’s tech cave. “He’s so cute.”

“We’re back to this,” Doyoung mutters, and Donghyuck grins.

“Of course I’m going. Do you think it’ll be like meeting his parents? Shit, what if I actually meet his parents? Should I dress nicely? If I’m just meeting his friends… I don’t think I have any nice shirts, fuck. I have no idea what we’re eating or where we’re going. Shit. What i-”

Doyoung sighs, straightening up. “Calm down. Go ask Renjun for help with this, not me. I’m busy. Wear that nice black shirt Jaehyun gave you and your good jeans.”

Xiaojun looks at Donghyuck, fingers still flying across his keyboard and grins. “Go get some, Donghyuckie. Good luck.”

Donghyuck winks as Doyoung shoos him out the door.

Renjun is already on the shitty couch in his apartment when Donghyuck opens the door, and expertly dodges Donghyuck’s leap onto the cushions next to him. “Looks like things went well with Mark.”

“Yeah! I know you told me not to stand outside his work like a stalker but I did anyways and it worked! We talked. His scary friend invited me to dinner. Well, less of an invitation and more of a demand. Tonight at 8 pm. I don’t know what to wear.”

Renjun’s eyes light up and he hauls Donghyuck to his feet, dragging him back into his bedroom. “Now you’re talking. Let’s pick out an outfit. You still have that eyeliner, right?”

Donghyuck grins and nods.

Donghyuck wonders if he’s overdressed.

“Am I overdressed?”  
“Hmm?” Jungwoo looks back at him in the rearview mirror. “No, I think you look really nice.”

“Of course he looks nice,” Renjun grumbles from beside Donghyuck. “I chose that outfit. Also, why am I here?”

“Because I need emotional support. And it’s not like you were busy doing anything else.” Renjun is long since immune to Donghyuck’s brightest smile but he still aims one at the other anyways. “Thanks for coming along.”

Renjun sighs. “This date thing had better go well.” He’s quiet for a moment, watching the buildings go by as they get closer to the restaurant that Mark sent Donghyuck the address to. ( _“Look, he put a little smiley face next to it. Fuck, Renjun, he’s so cute.” “So you’ve said.”)_ “Seriously. I want you to be happy, Hyuck, and Mark… well, finding and not hating your soulmate might make you really happy. Give him a chance. Give the whole soulmate thing a chance, Hyuck.”

“Who are you and what have you done with my best friend?” Donghyuck says, throwing his arms around Renjun’s slender shoulders to the other’s discomfort. “Don’t get all sappy on me now. I’ll cry and mess up my eyeliner.”

“Don’t you dare. I spent too long on that.”

“Thanks, Junnie,” Donghyuck says, barely a whisper. “Seriously.” Renjun just hums and fixes a few stray silver wisps of hair as Jungwoo pulls up to the curb outside of a very plain looking Chinese restaurant. 

“We’re here,” Jungwoo announces unnecessarily, and Donghyuck detaches from Renjun to slide out of the door.

“I’ll keep you posted with all the sweet details. If I don’t respond in like, two hours just assume that Jaemin guy killed me.”

“Good luck,” Renjun yells after him, rolling the window down. Donghyuck can see Jungwoo fighting to roll it up from the front console. “Get that boy, Donghyuck!”

Laughing, Donghyuck waves back and then turns, taking a deep breath. He almost wishes they were meeting at some big fancy restaurant because that would be more appropriate for how anxious he is instead of some fake wall screens and a single hostess who points in a vague direction when Donghyuck tells her he’s meeting three other people. 

Vague pointing aside it’s not hard to find them. There aren’t any other patrons with pastel pink hair, much less any pink-haired patrons sitting next to unfairly handsome dark-haired soulmates. Donghyuck’s soulmate, to be more specific. 

It’s been less than 24 hours since he saw Mark at the convenience store but there’s something very different about a warmly lit, warmly dressed Mark stifling a laugh sitting next to friends than a stressed and tired Mark leaning over a sticky counter, starkly illuminated by fluorescents. 

Donghyuck decides he likes both.

The one he’s never met is the one who notices him first, already turned around in his chair, blonde and angular and very threatening looking until he points, eyes crinkling up when he smiles. Jaemin immediately whips around, staring Donghyuck down, and Mark visibly stiffens in his seat.

He’s barely within hearing range when Jaemin says, “We don’t what you like but Mark’s favorite food is jjajangmyeon and since you’re soulmates we figured you’d like it too so we ordered for you already.”

Donghyuck decides to not mention he thinks jjajangmyeon is just okay. “That sounds great. Thanks.” He slides into the seat next to Mark, who is still tense. “Hi again, Jaemin. And you must be Jeno.”

“That’s me!” Jeno says, smiling even wider. “Mark’s best friend for basically life. I’ve heard a lot about you. Well, maybe not heard. I’ve certainly become acquainted with your lifestyle through helping Mark cover up dozens of bruises his whole life.” His words are very at odds with the radiant smile he’s still directing at Donghyuck. Mark seems to startle to life and flaps his hands at Jeno.

“Stop! You agreed that wouldn’t be the first thing you talked to him about!”

“No, I said that. Jeno did not. Jeno can say anything he wants,” Jaemin says pointedly with his arm over his soulmate’s chair, grinning at Mark and then winking at Jeno, who laughs. 

“It’s fine,” Donghyuck says, patting Mark’s shoulder. The other jumps just slightly. _God, he’s cute._ “I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t expecting it. Nice to meet you.”

“Test one failed,” Jaemin announces, marking a box on a napkin and Mark lunges across the table to try and take it.

“I was just _joking_ about the tests-”

“You didn’t greet Mark immediately and haven’t even made eye contact with him yet,” Jaemin continues, pretending to take notes. Donghyuck blinks.

“Um-”

“Ignore them, please, there aren’t tests. I mean, there are, but they’re dumb and also not real. You didn’t fail anything-”

“Sorry! I didn’t realize I’d be tested. Hello, Mark, it’s been about 20 hours since I last saw you. You look nice! I like your sweater. Did you put gel in your hair? I thought your smiley face text was very cute. I didn’t know jjajangmyeon noodles were your favorite!”

Mark goes impossibly still and Donghyuck just grins, watching red slowly creep up Mark’s neck and cheeks. Jaemin laughs and tears the napkin in half.

“Passed! All we need is someone who is cute, good at flustering our Mark, and funny and you’ve managed it in one fell swoop.”

It wasn’t the rite of passage Donghyuck was expecting but it feels nice anyways when Jeno and Jaemin start a separate conversation like Donghyuck is just part of their group. It does leave him a good chance to talk to Mark.

“Hey,” he whispers, elbowing him. 

🀚 🀚 🀚

Mark wants to vanish. He stares at the fake lacquer on the walls, looking for the comfort his favorite restaurant usually brings but finding none. Maybe he can become one of the people lounging on pillows in the detailed court scene.

“Hey,” he hears, and is brought out of his daydream of the Ming dynasty. Donghyuck is looking at him expectantly.

“Um. Hey. Sorry about them.”

Donghyuck laughs and Mark wills the blush away. “No worries. They’re funny. I’m sure my friends will give me as much shit when you meet them.” He clamps his mouth shut and there’s a brief awkward moment. “If! Haha. Or. When. We’re soulmates. Um, you’ll have- if you want to. You can meet them. Uh- like, Renjun, and Johnny, and I’ll tell Winwin to put his knives away…” He trails off, and Mark tries to take all of that in.

“Uh, yeah. I’d lo-like to meet your friends. And, uh, no… knives, please.” He laughs nervously. That’s not something he usually has to think about. What kind of friends does Donghyuck have?

“Right. No knives.”

“Um,” Mark says, trying to think of anything to talk about. “Do you actually like jjajangmyeon? I told them we should wait but, uh, Jaemin is kind of an unstoppable force.”

Donghyuck grins and Mark can feel his heart rate accelerate. “It’s okay. It’s not my favorite or anything, but I like it. I like jjampong more.”

“Oh. We can- would you rather have that?” 

“Jjangmyeon is fine as long as I can choose dessert.”

Mark’s answer is interrupted by the waiter bringing over their food, setting a plate in front of Jeno and then Jaemin, and then one in between Mark and Donghyuck with a side plate of fried rice.

“Jaemin,” Mark hisses, taking in the size. “I thought you got two jjajangmyeon.”

“I got two servings,” Jaemin says, grinning, and places chopsticks in front of Mark and Donghyuck with a flourish. “Just as one plate! So you can share.”

“How cute,” Jeno adds, and Mark groans.

“Sorry, Donghyuck-” He glances at his soulmate only to notice Donghyuck already digging into the food, chopsticks already mixing the noodles.

“I’ll eat well!”

“Oh, no, I don’t think we can join for dessert,” Jeno says, having the audacity to sound regretful. “Jaemin and I really ought to be going. I wish we could stay! You know how much I love… whatever it is you’re going to get.” Jaemin nods, pouting.

“Yeah! We have to… go… clean. Jeno’s bedroom.”

“Please leave,” Mark interrupts, sighing. “Just go.”

“Bye! It was nice meeting you, Donghyuck! If you break Mark’s heart I’ll break all your dishes!” Jaemin shouts, jumping and waving as Jeno drags him away. Donghyuck grins and waves back.

“Spare my favorite coffee mug,” he yells after them, and then turns back to Mark, absolutely effervescent in the warm light from the streetlamp. He says something else, smile spreading over heart-shaped lips, and Mark feels briefly stunned. Donghyuck is wearing this silky, long-sleeved black shirt with a wide neckline that drapes over his collarbones and his eyes are lightly lined with black. Mark knows he’s staring, _knows,_ but can’t be bothered to stop his gaze from tracing over the constellation of freckles along Donghyuck’s skin, the curve of his cheeks and jaw, and the faintest shimmer of eyeshadow that is dim compared to the glitter of his eyes, round and expressive. He’s staring so intensely that he notices when Donghyuck starts to blush, cheeks rapidly turning red.

“U-um,” he says, stuttering and playing with the ends of his sleeves with his fingers. Mark startles out of his reverie.

“Oh! Shit. Sorry. Uh, sorry. You’re- you’re really…” he takes a deep breath. “Really pretty. Beautiful. More than.”

Donghyuck stares back at him and this time Mark is the one flushing. The words sit between them for a moment before Donghyuck smiles, even wider than before, and grabs Mark’s hand. Something electric sparks when he touches him, and Mark can’t believe it took this long.

“Thanks, Markie. You’re not too bad yourself.”

🀧 🀧 🀧

“And then he said I was pretty,” Donghyuck says, face down on the bar, well aware of his dopey grin. Johnny hums, cleaning a glass.

“When are you gonna bring him around?”

“Please let me keep daydreaming about holding Mark Lee’s hand again and not about having to introduce him to all you losers.”

“As your surrogate father, I hope you know I’m not letting you take him home until I meet him. Keep your virtue and all that,” Johnny drawls, raising an eyebrow. Donghyuck scowls.

“I’m an adult. You can’t do that.”

“Can and will.”

Donghyuck pouts and Johnny’s eyebrow somehow goes even higher. “But-”

“Is Hyuckie bringing someone home?” 

Donghyuck groans as Ten slings an arm over his shoulder, laughing. “No. I just decided I never am going to. I’ll put up with his friend asking me to have a threesome with him and his soulmate again to save my precious Mark from all of you.”

Ten pauses and then leans in. “Are they hot? Are they looking for-”

“No! No. I’m never bringing him here. Get off me. I have to go scream into my pillows like a teenage girl because my soulmate is so fucking cute and we’re going to go on a lunch date this week after class.”

“Young love,” Ten says, sighing dramatically and Johnny snorts, shaking his head. “Speaking of, where’s Kun?”

“Gross,” Donghyuck mumbles, spinning on the barstool and sliding off. “I’m leaving.”

“Let me know if you need anything,” Ten calls after him. “Lube, condoms, toys-”

“I don’t!”

They have a lunch date. And then another. And then Donghyuck decides to visit Mark at work instead of going out with Lucas and Sicheng for a job for Taeyong. He goes to the library again and actually studies. (Or pretends to. He spends most of the hour they’re there staring at Mark’s face and wondering how it’s possible to look so good in glasses.)

Mark hasn’t asked any more questions about why Donghyuck reacted the way he did to finding his soulmate but Donghyuck catches him looking at the almost-healed scrapes on Donghyuck’s knuckles sometimes. They hold hands a lot now, even though Mark still turns bright red when Donghyuck surprises him on campus, lacing their fingers together and swinging their arms in tandem. 

About a week later, Mark accidentally slices his finger open with a knife while trying to help his friend cook and Donghyuck just about has a heart attack, sitting in his bedroom staring at the faint line on his index finger and the tiny drops of blood. Mark laughs when Donghyuck calls him in a panic, reassuring him that he’s fine, it’s nothing major. 

The tangle of conflicting feelings only grows thicker when Jaehyun asks Donghyuck specifically to tag along on a run with him and Yuta again. 

“Hyung,” Donghyuck says, trying to sort out why he feels so reluctant to go and only coming up with Mark as the answer. “Do I have to?”

Jaehyun sighs, running a hand through his hair. “Kind of. There’s no one else who can come with. It’ll be fine. It should be pretty easy as long as things go according to plan. Sorry, Hyuck, but we need you on this one.”

Donghyuck chews on a loose fingernail. “I… okay. I’ll come. Of course. When?”

“Tomorrow.”

🀨 🀨 🀨

Donghyuck doesn’t respond to Mark’s texts all day on Saturday. Which is unusual because Donghyuck is usually quick to reply.

“It’s probably nothing,” Mark tells Jeno again, who nods, staring at his homework. “He’s probably busy. Or maybe his phone is dead. It’s nothing.”

“Mmhmm.”

“But what if it isn’t? What if he’s in trouble? What if his phone is broken and I can’t reach him? I don’t even know where he lives. Or anything about any of his friends.”

“Hmm.”

“But it’s probably nothing. I’m worried about it for no reason.”

“Mmhmm.”

“What if-”

Jeno sighs, pushing his glasses up his nose. “Donghyuck is probably fine. Stop getting all worked up about it. I need to finish this assignment and Jaemin is supposed to come over in like forty five minutes. Just… chill. Or something. Donghyuck is fine. You’d know if he wasn’t.”

“Right.” Mark nods, exhaling. “You’re right. Sorry.”

“It’s fine, hyung,” Jeno says, already turning back to his work. “Go find something to take your mind off it. It’ll be fine.”

 _It’s not_ , Mark thinks about an hour later, watching in his mirror as red soaks through his shirt, feeling the cut on his side sting and then shouting for Jeno, _it’s really not._

🀆 🀆 🀆

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> you can yell at me about being a liar  
> mahjong tiles summarized if anyone cares: (and i guess correct me if i get these grossly wrong it was a struggle to find info)  
> 🀂west - an obstacle  
> 🀕bamboo 6 - need for communication  
> 🀔bamboo 5 - birth, rebirth, recovery from hardship  
> 🀚circles 2 - strength, resolve, diplomacy  
> 🀧summer - ambitious, full of energy and drive  
> 🀆white dragon - unknown  
> <3


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter is the end of the main story!!  
> i've become a liar again and switched the number of chapters :( i'm sorry the last part/chapter is an epilogue and is a hundo percent saucy sauce so a. the rating will change and b. i'll post it when im done im sorry TT
> 
> warnings for violence, mention of past character death, mentions of past abuse, panic attacks

“Hyung,” Donghyuck asks, sixteen, scared, and in love with someone he’s never met. “Taeyong-hyung, what-”

Taeyong shushes him, eyes trained on the door in front of them. The safety on his gun is off and anyone who comes through that door is getting a bullet between the eyes. He has an arm in front of Donghyuck, the other steadying his aim.

“No, hyung, this is important,” Donghyuck whispers, clutching his wrist and wincing. The fabric Taeyong ripped from his shirt is a shoddy stand-in for a bandage but it’ll have to do. ( _ It’ll have to do,  _ Taeyong had said, ignoring the wet trails running down his neck.  _ I’m so sorry, Hyuckie. So fucking sorry.)  _ “If I die-”

“Be quiet,” Taeyong hisses, glaring at Donghyuck with poorly disguised panic in his eyes. “You’re- you’re not going to fucking die here, Donghyuck. I swear on my fucking life I’m not letting you die here.”

Donghyuck looks at the lifeless body only meters away, someone he used to know, and isn’t sure if Taeyong’s life will be enough. He presses on. “What happens to my soulmate, hyung, if I die?”

Taeyong stills, breath hitching. “Shit, Hyuck, now’s not really the time-”

“Please,” Donghyuck says so, so quietly. “Just tell me.” He wants to know, even if it destroys him in the end.

“If you die,” Taeyong murmurs, sitting back on his heels and looking at Donghyuck. “Your soulmate won’t be able to feel a thing. Ever. Fate’s cruelest and most unjust punishment. So I’m not gonna let you die here, Donghyuck. For your sake and theirs.”

They make it out alive, and Donghyuck lets himself breathe, lets himself mourn, and decides he hates his soulmate because all he’s ever done is hurt them.

“Hyung,” Donghyuck whispers, twenty, scared, and so, so in love with his soulmate. “What’s going to happen?”

Jaehyun shakes his head, motioning for him to be quiet. Donghyuck can feel the blood rushing in his ears and imagines he can feel Mark’s heartbeat too. Mark’s heartbeat is probably steady and calm in contrast to how Donghyuck’s is erratic and quickened. Donghyuck refrains from asking again because he’s afraid of the answer.

( _ The plan failed,  _ Yuta said, panting and clutching his shoulder, moments before passing out.  _ They knew we were coming. They’re- they blocked off all the exits. I don’t know how we’re going to get out. I tried to lead them away but there are just too many. _

_ It’s okay,  _ Jaehyun said, sounding far from it.  _ We’ll figure something out. Stay with me, okay? Yuta? Come on, stay with me. _ )

Donghyuck looks at the unconscious body of his friend only a few meters away and feels a sick sense of deja vu creep up his throat. He can hear voices from just around the corner and  _ knows  _ how exposed they are, crouched with their backs against a wall.

“Hyung,” he says, trying to keep the panic out of his words. “I can’t die here.”

“You’re not going to die.”

“Hyung,” Donghyuck repeats, flinching as a door slams into the wall nearby, voices louder, and he’s trying to stay calm but he’s so, so scared. “What do we do?”

Jaehyun sighs heavily, raking a hand through his hair. “I don’t know, Hyuck. I don’t know. I- Jungwoo should be here soon. We don’t know how many there are. I don’t know if we should risk it.”

Donghyuck  _ hates  _ Mark because usually he wouldn’t question himself and would assure Jaehyun that they can take on anything but now Mark lingers in the back of his mind, smiling at him over the rims of his glasses and offering him his fries at lunch. 

“Fuck,” he mutters, clenching his fists. He looks at Yuta, looks at Jaehyun, and apologizes to Mark in his mind. “We should go. We have to try it. Jungwoo-hyung can’t get to us here anyways. We have to move. You’re stronger than I am, you should carry him.”

“Donghyuck,” Jaehyun says quietly, and it’s not a  _ no.  _ “Are you sure?”

“What other choice do we have, hyung?”

He hopes Mark can feel his nails digging into his palms and he hopes he knows it’s Donghyuck’s way of reminding himself he’s alive.

Jaehyun lifts Yuta, draping him over his back, and stands with a grunt, adjusting his center of balance. Donghyuck slips his knives out of his sleeves, exhaling and trying fruitlessly to clear his thoughts. And then they’re moving, hugging the wall, Donghyuck in front of Jaehyun, freezing whenever he hears anything. He feels his phone heavy in his pocket, off and inaccessible, and wishes that he could text Renjun. 

He can almost see the front gate when the thugs find them. Donghyuck thanks whatever god is on their side when there are only four of them; maybe Yuta took care of more of them than he thought. Four lumbering, poorly trained goons he can handle. 

“Go,” he yells to Jaehyun, motioning towards the open gate where he can see headlights getting closer. “That has to be Jungwoo. I’ll follow you.”

Jaehyun hesitates long enough for the first guy to swing at Donghyuck before nodding and hurrying as quickly as he can carrying Yuta. Donghyuck turns back to the fight. This he can do. Pushing the thought of his soulmate to the corner of his mind, he settles into his stance and refocuses.

Fighting is methodical. Dangerous, but methodical. Dodge, step, jump, forward, right, pull back, go in, slash, stab, block. There’s blood on his knives, blood on his hands, and it’s not his. There’s someone approaching from his left, passing by and falling with a quick, wide sweep of a leg and the following blade between cartilage, right where Donghyuck knows the gang’s tattoo is, where the sign of the torture and trafficking they’ve done is inked into skin. He pushes the guilt of not watching the man get back up away and turns to face the next. 

At some point, someone gets a good hit on his back, and the muscles throb. Donghyuck hopes it’s not as bad as it feels. He knows,  _ knows  _ it’s only been minutes but it feels like hours when the last one stumbles back and he can hear Jungwoo shout from behind him. He makes sure the last one is out cold with a hard thump on his temple with the hilt of his knife and runs towards Jungwoo, towards his hyungs, towards safety. And he can see Jaehyun’s hand through the open car door, can see Jungwoo getting ready to throw the van into gear. He’s so, so close, and then.

“Donghyuck,” Jaehyun shouts, vaulting out of the car and he’s not fast enough, Donghyuck’s not fast enough, doesn’t see the man with the smile of someone who knows he’s lost and has nothing left to lose appear from practically thin air, doesn’t anticipate the way that steel feels like fire when it shreds through skin. It  _ burns  _ and keeps  _ going  _ and  _ going  _ and there are two shots, one missed and the other finding a home in the man’s torso. He drops to the ground, dead. Donghyuck wants to look, wants to see what the thing that’s carved a space between his ribs looks like, but Jaehyun catches him before he can look down. 

“I’m so sorry,” Jaehyun says, voice thick, and Donghyuck tries to shake his head, sinking into Jaehyun’s arms. Over his shoulder, he can see Jungwoo, hands curled around a pistol, quivering, crying, but with a set jaw. “I’m sorry. Shit, Donghyuck, I’m so fucking sorry.”

“It’s- it’s gonna be fine,” Donghyuck murmurs, wondering if the knife is still in his side or if gravity pulled it out for him. “I’ll be… I’ll be fine.”

“We’re- we’re going to the hospital,” Jaehyun says decisively, and if he could, Donghyuck would argue, protest, because a hospital means records, and doctors, and questions. “Don’t worry. We’ll tell Taeil to call them. We have to, Hyuck. You’re…” He takes a breath and Donghyuck feels envious, feeling his own lungs rattle with effort. Jaehyun moves, takes a step towards the van, and Donghyuck’s legs don’t work anymore.

He doesn’t remember getting in the van. What he does remember is listening to Jaehyun’s voice as if underwater, echoing and blurring. Or maybe that’s the streetlights outside. Jaehyun might be yelling, telling Donghyuck to  _ keep your fucking eyes open, Donghyuck, don’t you dare close your eyes.  _ He wants to ask what hospital they’re going to, how far it is, and if Jungwoo could possibly avoid potholes because it feels as if his whole heart lurches in his chest when the van shakes. 

He wants to ask Jaehyun if he can get his phone, if he can call Renjun, if he can tell him what happened, but the only word he manages, quietly, dripping from his lips like the blood from his chest, is,

“ _ Mark.” _

🀖 🀖 🀖

“Hey, Mark, Mark! Stop- stop shouting! Christ-”

Jeno is angry, Mark registers, and he stutters through an apology. He can barely hear Jeno over the static in his ears. His fingers are wet with crimson and nothing in a hundred lifetimes could have prepared him for the shock and pain emanating from his chest, his side, his back.

“Oh my god,” someone says, and Mark can’t tell if it’s Jeno or Jaemin but suddenly there’s someone next to him, hands pulling his fingers away from his shirt. “Mark, oh my god-”

It’s Jaemin’s hands, because Jeno is in front of Mark, hair messy and eyes wide. “I’m sorry,” Mark says again, weakly, because Jeno is scared of blood and there has to be something wrong because Mark is bleeding but he hasn’t left his room in hours, which means-

“Mark,” Jaemin says, and his voice is a little scratchy. He’s not wearing a shirt. Mark swallows guilt. “Hey, Mark, breathe, please.”

“I-” he realizes that he’s hyperventilating, oxygen caught in his throat. “I’m- sorry.”

Jaemin shakes his head. “Don’t apologize. But I need you to calm down. You’re okay.”

“I-I’m, I’m fine,” Mark manages, trying to count to seven in his head. He is. He’s not bleeding that much. “But- but Donghyuck-”

“Mark, I need you to listen to me,” Jeno says, voice even if not strained. “Sit down. Okay? Let’s take a look at it.”

Mark lets them guide him onto the bed, hands shaking, unable to see the smear of blood against his maroon sheets when he tangles his fingers in the fabric. Jeno and Jaemin are talking, maybe to Mark, maybe to each other. Someone tugs on his shirt until he lifts his arms, letting them peel if off of him. He’s glad he can’t see himself in the mirror from this angle, but the expression that flashes through Jaemin’s eyes might be worse than whatever he’d see. 

It’s fear. Jaemin looks at Jeno and Jeno looks at Jaemin and Mark feels a drop of blood oozing down his side. It tickles. The two of them are having some sort of conversation, tiny shifts in body language, and Mark wants to scratch his skin off.

“I-” he says, and then takes a ragged breath, wet and difficult, “I can’t breathe.”

“What?” Jeno whips his focus back to Mark, hands hesitating over Mark’s shoulders as if he wants to make sure Mark’s not the one bleeding out. “You- what?”

“I- I can,” Mark amends, struggling to pick the right words. “It’s hard. There’s something wrong with m- my- my- hi-his,” he stops, stuttering, because it’s Donghyuck that’s taking labored breaths, Donghyuck’s lungs that feel heavy and weak, Donghyuck’s heart pushing blood through his veins. “Hi- his- D- Donghyuck-” The room spins and Mark’s heartbeat speeds up, palms sweating. Panic is thundering in his temples, yanking his thoughts askew. “I have to- I have to calm down- I’m-” The dead air in his room roars in his ears. He wishes something would make a sound.

“-ark, Mark, listen to me,” a voice says, and Mark can’t tell where it’s coming from because the whole world tilts and someone swears. “Mark! Come on, look at me. He’s not listening, what should we do? Shit.”

There are hands on his face and then Jeno swims into his view, frowning. “Mark, I need you to calm down. Donghyuck needs you to calm down. You’re not helping him.”

Mark is torn between letting the thought that he could be making things worse for his soulmate center him or throw him further into the dark. He focuses on Jeno’s touch, on the sheets on his bed, on Jaemin hovering anxiously behind Jeno, holding a towel.  _ Donghyuck needs me,  _ Mark thinks like a mantra, like a prayer, trying to calm his racing heart. “I’m- okay, I’m fine. Give me a second.”

Jaemin finally joins them, carefully wiping trails of blood away from the cut on his side, and Mark winces as he swipes over the skin. “It’s not that big of a cut,” Jaemin murmurs, even though he doesn’t sound convinced by his own words. He knows the cut isn’t that big, can tell it's only a centimeter, two centimeters across. The size of the cut on Mark isn’t what matters because it’s not his. “Breathe,” Jaemin says, noticing Mark’s fingers beginning to shake again. 

“I don’t know how to reach him,” Mark whispers, staring at Jeno. “His phone is off. I don’t know who any of his friends are or where he lives. I don’t know where he was going. He didn’t tell me.”

“Whatever Donghyuck’s lifestyle is and why he gets hurt like this,” Jeno muses, sitting on the bed next to Mark, “I think you need to talk about it… later.” There’s a silence after his words that Mark doesn’t want to fill.

“Right.”

Jaemin finishes cleaning off his skin, and gently presses the towel to the cut, still slowly bleeding. And he doesn’t have to say it for Mark to know but he says anyways, “I… I’m not a med student or anything, but I think- the um, injury is… more… severe than it looks.” 

And he knows; Mark can feel his lungs struggling, as if his body doesn’t know why it can’t breathe but is compensating regardless. It hurts.

It’s quiet. None of them have anything to say. Mark wants to scoff, wants to cry, wants to scour the world until he finds Donghyuck. He wants a lot of things but all he gets is a tense reticence. 

Time passes. Jeno and Jaemin argue about going to the hospital. Mark listens. The ticking clock on his bedside feels like a metronome. He doesn’t know if it’s his fingers that start to go numb or if they’re Donghyuck’s. There’s a ringing in his ears and the room spins.

“I think he’s dying,” Mark says quietly, staring blankly at the opposite wall, and the cut doesn’t even hurt anymore.

“He’s not,” Jaemin says fiercely at the same time Jeno says, “We don’t know that.” Mark ignores them.

“I can’t feel my fingers,” Mark continues, so deep in his thoughts that it feels like drowning. He can’t even bring himself to panic properly. “Nothing hurts. I can’t feel it.”

Jeno turns and hits the wall, hard. Jaemin jumps, staring at his soulmate and curling his own fingers. “Fuck,” Jeno swears, scowling as tears finally break from his waterlines. Mark wonders what it feels like to not be able to feel, what it’d be like to not know how cold the snow feels when it lands on his skin, how it burns when he accidentally drinks coffee before it’s cooled. He wonders if he’ll forget how paper cuts sting and how bruises ache. He wonders if he’ll be able to remember how much he loves the feeling of grass under his hands.

His phone rings.

Jeno grabs it and almost,  _ almost,  _ throws it against the door. Jaemin grabs his arm. “Who is it? Jeno, hold on.”

“What does it matter?” Jeno says, but lets Jaemin wrestle the phone away. Jaemin almost drops it when he sees the ID.

“It’s Donghyuck,” he whispers, and the room whirls around in Mark’s blurry vision.

“It’s what,” he weakly asks, hope fluttering in his chest.

“It’s his number, at least.”

“Answer it.”

Jaemin does, because Jeno is breathing too harshly and Mark’s not sure if he still has control over his own muscles. “Hello?”

_ “Is this Mark?” _

“No,” Jaemin answers, glancing at Mark. “Who are you?”

“ _ I’m Huang Renjun. I’m Donghyuck’s friend. He’s in the hospital. Some… things happened.” _

“Is he dead?”

“Is he dead?” Jaemin asks, repeating Mark.

“ _ No. Not yet, at least. He’s been in the operating room for a while. We don’t really know what’s going on. But we’d know if he was dead. I think Mark should be here. I’ll send the address of the hospital. Please hurry.” _

On the other end, Renjun hangs up and Jeno’s already moving. “Let’s go,” he says as a text message blinks across the screen of Mark’s phone with a name and address. “Let’s go.”

It’s strange, Mark thinks, to be walking into a hospital, dying without showing any symptoms. There are only five people sitting in the lobby; 2 a.m. is not a busy hour after all. A girl on the phone cries, an elderly couple doze on each other’s shoulders, and a young man and woman anxiously watch the clock. Mark wonders what their stories are. 

He can feel again, slowly regaining sensation in his fingers and toes on the drive to the hospital. The cut on his side hurts and he can feel the beginnings of a massive bruise on his back but he can  _ feel.  _ Donghyuck is alive. Renjun had texted them the room number so he heads straight to the elevator, Jeno and Jaemin right behind him. Four floors feel like a hundred. 

Mark breaks into a run as soon as the door opens, ignoring the startled calls of the nurses. Jeno can handle them. The hall stretches on, and he almost skids past room 416. 

The door bangs against the wall, and there’s an exclamation from the boy who turns to face him, scowling. “Who the fuck are-”

“Donghyuck,” Mark breathes, ignoring the one he assumes to be Renjun. He pushes past him, focused on the figure tucked under thin hospital blankets, silver hair against a white pillowcase, golden skin unnaturally sallow. There are all kinds of tubes and wires attached to him, and Mark is so, so relieved to hear the quiet beeping on the monitor and the slight rise and fall of his chest. 

“You must be Renjun,” he hears Jaemin say, sliding the door shut behind him. “I’m Jaemin, this is Jeno, and that’s-”

“Mark,” Renjun finishes. “I guessed as much.”

Mark tunes them out, carefully, carefully taking Donghyuck’s hand in his. There’s a faint spark between them, a telltale heartbeat, and Mark finally cries. 

🀛 🀛 🀛

The first thing Donghyuck notices when he wakes up is how dry his throat is. The second is the slight ache in his neck, odd because he’s comfortable against the pillows stacked under his head. His room is quiet, which isn’t surprising because Renjun isn’t the most talkative of them, but no one says anything, even as Donghyuck blinks open his eyes. There’s faint sunlight drifting through his window, and he wonders how long he’s been asleep.

Then he feels the loose grip on his hand, and shifts. 

“Mark,” he whispers, looking at the pale fingers wrapped around his, and realizes the ache in his neck is because Mark is draped over the rail of the bed, head twisted so that he can rest it on the mattress. His soulmate has blood under his fingernails and dark circles under his eyes, and Donghyuck wants to cry.

He doesn’t; instead, he just curls his fingers around Mark’s and waits for him to wake up, watching him breathe evenly in the morning light. He’s left with his thoughts. He hopes, desperately hopes that Mark doesn’t hate him. He doesn’t know what he’ll do if Mark wakes up and curses him, if he shakes his head and frowns at Donghyuck. He hopes to anyone who’s listening that Mark forgives him again. 

Donghyuck is so deep in his thoughts that he misses Mark stirring, yawning and blearily looking up. The gasp he lets out is loud though, and Donghyuck’s eyes snap to his. Mark stares at him and Donghyuck can see his eyes taking in everything, sweeping over his face and then the rest of him as if Mark will be able to x-ray him and figure out where he hurts. 

“Stop looking at me like that,” Donghyuck whispers, not sure if he can handle the desperate relief in Mark’s gaze any longer, the careful way he’s staring, the dried tear tracks under his eyes. “I’ll start crying.”

“I have to make sure I’m not still asleep,” Mark answers with a weak smile. “I could be dreaming and you could be gone.”

“I’m not,” Donghyuck says, and shit, he’s going to cry anyway. He tightens his grip on Mark’s hand. “I’m not.”

Mark laughs, chokes, stares at their fingers. “I couldn’t feel anything,” he breathes, almost too quiet for Donghyuck to hear. “There was blood, and I couldn’t feel anything. I thought you were dead.” 

“I’m sorry.” Donghyuck doesn’t know what else to say. “I’m so sorry. I’m so fucking sorry, I’m so sorry-” 

Mark’s mouth is salty; or maybe it’s Donghyuck’s tears covering his when Mark surges forward to kiss him. 

“You’re alive,” Mark murmurs against his lips, “you’re alive, and that’s all that matters. I don’t care.” He slides his hand up Donghyuck’s arm, palm coming to rest over his heart, and Donghyuck hopes he can feel how it thunders in his chest. He untangles one of his hands from all the wires and wraps it around Mark’s neck, pulling him in again.

A hospital isn’t the most ideal place for a first kiss, but Donghyuck will take what he can get, Mark leaning over him and pressing him back into the pillows, mouth gentle and insistent. The beeping of one of the machines speeds up, and Mark breaks away to laugh, fingers still spread over Donghyuck’s chest. His face is flushed and Donghyuck wants to keep him here, sunlight catching his profile and sparkling in his eyes. He moves his hand, tracing along Mark’s jaw and cheekbone.

“Maybe we shouldn’t-”

“Really, Donghyuck? In a hospital after a severe near-death experience?”

Donghyuck groans, dropping his arm to his side. “Hey, Renjun, I’m alive and feel fine, thanks for asking.”

“How are you feeling?” Renjun asks, but his sarcasm is undermined by the clear relief on his face. “Don’t you ever, ever do that to me again, you hear? You almost died.”

“Technically he did,” Jaemin says, peering at them from behind Renjun. Donghyuck has a brief thought about that but then what Jaemin said registers.

“What?”

“Yeah, you like, flatlined. I think the doctor said something about asymptotes.”

“Asystole,” Jeno corrects, never far from Jaemin. “Your heart stopped. The doctor said they had to give you adrenaline to get your heart to work well enough to get the blood transfusion to your lungs. You were sort of dead for like, a minute.”

“No wonder,” Mark murmurs, not having let go of Donghyuck. “That’s why I couldn’t feel you.”

Donghyuck burns with curiosity, to ask what it was like to lose feeling, even for a minute, but maybe now’s not the time. Later. “But… I didn’t. Die. So.”

“Not the point,” Renjun says, rolling his eyes. “Scared the shit outta me, Hyuck.”

“I’m sorry.” Donghyuck has said that a lot today. “If it counts, I didn’t mean to.”

“I’m aware. I already talked to Jaehyun and Jungwoo. Yuta is okay, by the way, even though you didn’t ask.”

“I’ve been awake for like ten minutes-”

“They want to come see you. So do Taeyong and Johnny. They’ve been waiting for you to wake up so I’ll let them know you’re alive,” Renjun continues, pulling his phone out of his pocket and twirling it in his fingers. “I’ll leave you two to your catching up, but please remember we’re in a hospital. Try to stay decent, even though these hospital gowns don’t have backs.”

Mark turns bright red and Donghyuck laughs, because of Mark, because of Renjun, because he can.

🀦 🀦 🀦

They discharge Donghyuck early the next day, citing the closeness of his soulmate as the reason for his quick recovery. Mark doesn’t know much about that; he’s just glad that Donghyuck can walk out of the hospital on his own two feet, despite Renjun almost knocking him out to get him to sit in the wheelchair. He had dodged him, hiding behind Mark, and Mark had settled for just holding onto Donghyuck’s arm as they cross the parking lot, careful to not pull on him and disrupt the stitches.

The cut still stings and Mark’s back aches where Donghyuck told him he got hit, but Mark bites his tongue for now; Donghyuck promised him he would answer his questions as soon as they got out. 

There’s a car waiting for them, and the door slides open as they approach. An unreasonably handsome man steps out, walking briskly to meet them. He looks exhausted and Mark wonders which friend this is. Donghyuck chokes out a quiet “ _ Jaehyun,”  _ and pushes away from Mark, into his friend’s arms. He buries his head in the other’s neck and Mark briefly struggles with a hot burn of jealousy. Donghyuck’s shoulders shake and Mark dismisses the ugly feeling.

“Donghyuck,” this Jaehyun says, pulling him close. “Fuck, Donghyuck, I’m so sorry. I didn’t see the guy until it was too late. I shouldn’t have left you, I shouldn’t have-”

“It’s okay, hyung,” Donghyuck interrupts, smiling. God, he’s so beautiful. “There was no way you could have known.”

“Still,” Jaehyun murmurs, tightening his grasp. They stand there for a moment until Mark can’t take it anymore and winces, feeling his ribs protest at the squeeze. Jaehyun looks up at the sound, and loosens his arms. “Oh. This must be Mark.”

“That’s me,” Mark says, slightly breathless. Donghyuck huffs a laugh and steps away from Jaehyun.

“He’s not what I was expecting,” Jaehyun muses, sizing him up. Mark doesn’t know why it makes him bristle.  
“What does that-”

“Donghyuck!” Someone jumps out from the drivers side of the car and runs over, barely stopped from barrelling into Donghyuck by Jaehyun, who rolls his eyes.

“Chill, Jungwoo, the kid just almost died. Be careful.”

“Right. Sorry. Are you okay? Did they feed you enough? Hello, Mark, nice to meet you. I’m Jungwoo. Hyuckie, I’m sorry, I should have been faster. I’ve never shot anyone before! I missed once. Maybe if I hadn’t missed I could have gotten him earlier. I’m so sorry.”

Donghyuck laughs, opening his arms and Mark accepts the pain when Jungwoo swoops in for a hug, crushing Donghyuck’s sides. If this is how all Donghyuck’s friends are he’ll have to just get used to it.

“Come on, let’s go. Everyone is waiting to see you. Here, I’ll help-”

“Ah,” Donghyuck says, and Mark wonders about the faint blush on his soulmate’s cheeks until Donghyuck turns and reaches for him. “Um, Mark, will you come with? I…” he bites his lip and Mark smiles, instinct moving him forward more than anything else. 

“Of course,” he answers, returning to Donghyuck’s side and gently supporting him. “I’ll come.”

“Renjun,” Donghyuck shouts, gesturing for him to hurry up where he’s lagging behind with Jaemin and Jeno. “Let’s go!”

“Coming!” Renjun turns to say something else to Jaemin, and Mark faintly hears Jaemin say, “ _ Hey, you’re really cute. Would you be interested in joining my soulmate and I in a threesome?” _

He misses Renjun’s response because of Donghyuck’s laughter ringing in his ears, and he’d go deaf if it meant he’d get to hear his laugh until he couldn’t hear anything else. He helps Donghyuck into the van, waiting until a red-faced Renjun climbs in to shut the door.

“So?” Donghyuck says, smirking. “A threesome, huh?”

“Shut it,” Renjun replies, and says nothing more. 

Jungwoo talks a lot, filling Donghyuck in on the past few days, and Mark mostly tunes it out, opting to stare at Donghyuck instead. During a lull in the conversation, a thought strikes him and he tugs Donghyuck closer. 

“Um, Hyuck?”

“Hmm?”

“Will there… be any knives?”

Donghyuck blinks, looking at him, and Mark thinks the embarrassment is worth the reaction he gets, laughter hurting his lungs and pulling at the edges of the small bandaid on Mark’s side. He’ll take any amount of discomfort, he thinks, if it means getting to see joy like this.

“This is a bar,” Mark says dumbly, staring at the brick exterior and the blinking sign.

“Of course it is,” Donghyuck responds, scoffing. “Did you think a gang would operate from behind a library? Welcome to The City.”

“A… gang? Hey, Donghyuck, wait!” He jogs the few steps between them and slides his arm around Donghyuck’s waist. “I have so many questions.”

“And I’ll give you the answers,” he says, just for Mark’s ears. “I’m sorry for hiding so much.”

“And-” Mark is interrupted again by the opening of a door and shouting, a dozen people spilling out and surrounding them.

“Donghyuck! Are you okay?”

“I was about to hack your records, you know-”

“Don’t you ever worry me like that again, we need to get some good food in you-”

“Shit, Hyuck, I was so worried-”

“I’m not going to let you go out on jobs for  _ months- _ ”

“I’m coming with you next time, that wouldn’t have happened if someone had been there-”

“Is this Mark?”

“Sit down, let me take a look at you, did they wrap your injury properly-”

“Back off,” Renjun says, hands on his hips, and the small crowd quiets. Impressive. “Let him get inside first, Christ. He just got off of death’s doorstep. Give him some space.”

One steps forward, dark circles under his eyes and a soft smile. “Donghyuck. Thank god you’re okay.”

“Taeyong-hyung.” Donghyuck pushes away from Mark and he refrains from reaching after him like a child. 

“Come in,” Taeyong says, gesturing for them to follow. “You too, Mark Lee.”

Mark jumps. “Uh- yes, of course.”

Taeyong leads them into the back of the bar, and Mark can’t help but feel intimidated. Taeyong is all sharp angles and intense eyes, shocking red hair and what looks like a tiny scar cutting through his eyebrow. But the hand he has on Donghyuck’s shoulder, the way he holds the door, is gentle. 

The room he lets them into is a sort of office space, with a big table and swiveling chair at the head. There are some papers strewn over the desk that Taeyong carefully neatens until he looks satisfied. He gestures to two empty chairs. “Sit down.” Mark does so just after Donghyuck, and feels oddly like he’s in a job interview, or meeting Donghyuck’s parents. He guesses Taeyong might be close.

The door swings open again and another man walks in, tall and broad. He grins, patting Donghyuck on the shoulder before dropping into a seat just behind Taeyong. “Hey, Hyuck. How’re you feeling?”

“Been better,” Donghyuck responds, but he’s smiling. “Thanks for not visiting, Johnny.”

Johnny waves his hand. “No problem. Call me next time you have a near-death crisis so I can clear my schedule when you’re in the hospital.”

Taeyong rolls his eyes and shakes his head. “Enough. Donghyuck’s not going to be anywhere near any crises at all for quite a while.”

Mark almost cries out of relief even though he doesn’t have any idea what that means. He still doesn’t know how or why Donghyuck got hurt. Donghyuck does not share his relief.

“What?” He protests loudly, pouting. “That’s not fair. I’m fine. If the plan had worked-”

“Plans don’t always work, Hyuckie,” Johnny interrupts, no longer smiling. “You nearly died, kid. That’s different than some bruised ribs or some stitches on a cut-up arm.”

“I know, but-”

Mark hopes he doesn’t look as tense as he feels. The idea of going through anything similar to the past two days is terrifying. There’s so much he doesn’t know but he knows that he probably wouldn’t make it through with his sanity intact. The sharp intake of breath gives him away though, and Taeyong’s gaze snaps to him.

“Donghyuck,” Taeyong says, quietly, “I’m not letting you go on any jobs for the foreseeable future. You’re lucky I’m not saying never again.”

“That’s not fair,” Donghyuck argues, loud, and Mark can’t help but startle. He’s so frayed, nerves stretched thin, that the smack of Donghyuck’s palms on the table makes him jump. “I’m not dead-”

Mark doesn’t know how long he can keep sitting in this room, hearing Donghyuck insist that he’s  _ fine  _ as if Mark didn’t know that he was, technically, dead, and that sitting in his room, losing feeling in his hands, was the scariest and most horrifying thing Mark’s ever had to go through. He wonders if he should be mad, if he should tell Donghyuck he’s being inconsiderate, but Johnny does it for him.

“Quiet, Donghyuck,” Johnny’s voice is tight and for the first time, Mark feels almost scared to be here. “This isn’t just about you.” Donghyuck’s mouth snaps shut and he glances at Mark before looking away, sucking a cheek in. “Just take a second to think about how selfish you’re being, just for a minute.” 

“Johnny,” Taeyong says, holding up a hand. Johnny stops, but not before huffing and running a hand through his hair. “What Johnny means is that there are some things you have to figure out, and talk to Mark about, before I’ll even consider letting you go out again. You can’t keep ignoring it, and if ordering you to stay inside is what I have to do it’s what I’ll do. So consider yourself on probation. And you will comply, or else I’ll be forced to take some more drastic actions.”

Mark doesn’t know if he should speak up on Donghyuck’s behalf because his soulmate is furious, fuming in his chair, or if he should get on his knees and thank Taeyong with his forehead pressed to the floor. He does neither.

“And Mark,” Taeyong directs at him, and Mark makes sure he’s not crying before looking up, “try to understand that our lives, this life,” he gestures around the room, at Johnny and Donghyuck, “is all most of us know. Donghyuck never meant to be cruel, or to hurt you, yet he has, and he’s very sorry-” Donghyuck doesn’t say anything. “-but it’s part of what it means to be part of this family. And we’re the only family he has, aside from you now. So, I’d ask you to keep that in mind.” He smiles, soft and melancholy, and stands. “I think you guys have a lot to talk about, so you can go ahead. I’ll tell the others not to bother you just yet. But do know that Kun is going to try to force-feed you. I think he already stocked your apartment. He stress cooks, you know.”

Mark stands first, because it still kind of feels like Donghyuck is angry, and offers him his hand. “Lead the way?” He offers, partially because he wants Donghyuck to accept and partially because he has no idea where to go. Donghyuck takes a deep breath and Mark momentarily fears he’ll push his hand away. He doesn’t.

“Okay,” he says, lacing their fingers together, and Mark can’t help the stutter of his heart. “I’m just warning you I don’t have many guests over. Don’t say anything mean about my shitty couch.”

“I would never,” Mark answers, and it makes Donghyuck laugh, even if reluctantly. There’s no one waiting for them outside, although Mark can hear voices, which is probably thanks to whatever Johnny said to all of them. Donghyuck pulls him along up a staircase at the back of the bar and to a short hallway with only one door. 

“Do you live alone?”

“Yeah,” Donghyuck hums, punching in his door code. “But Renjun might as well live here. I’m never lonely. Someone’s always at the bar too. It’s not too bad.”

“That’s nice,” Mark says, taking his shoes off and peering into the apartment. “It’s nice.”

The apartment feels like Donghyuck, warm and full of tiny memorabilia and trinkets. There’s a row of succulents along one windowsill, and laundry hanging out on the balcony. The kitchen is small but looks well used, and the coffee table in the main room is covered with notes, all complete. Down the hall there are two doors, probably leading to a bedroom and bathroom. “I like the couch,” he settles on, and he does. It’s a weird shade of green, cushions sinking in the middle. But there’s a cute fuzzy blanket draped over the back and lots of pillows so Mark isn’t even lying. Donghyuck snorts.

“Thanks. I guess have a seat. Do you want something to drink?”

“Uh, sure,” Mark answers, looking at the set of photos in frames on the wall. They’re all photos of all the people Mark had seen earlier. He recognizes Taeyong, and Johnny, and then the two who picked them up from the hospital - Jaehyun and Jungwoo, if he remembers, as well as some photos of Renjun. There aren’t any of Donghyuck. “Water is fine.”

🀑 🀑 🀑

Donghyuck takes a deep breath in the kitchen. He can do this. He was kind of hoping Mark would ask for, like, tea, or something, so that he could have a reason to continue to avoid the conversation awaiting him. He turns the tap on just barely and watches the glass slowly fill. He didn’t say he’d get the drinks fast, he reasons, doing the same with a second glass. 

Mark doesn’t say anything about how long it took Donghyuck to fill two cups with water. Donghyuck inhales deeply again and sets them down, perching on the opposite end of the couch. His skin itches to move closer to his soulmate, especially after just spending so much time in contact with him while at the hospital. He caves to the feeling and scoots in, hoping Mark gets the message.

Thank god Mark isn’t always completely dense because he notices and meets Donghyuck halfway, hesitating a moment before just lacing their fingers together.

“Is this… okay?”

Donghyuck stifles a laugh at that. “Yeah. This is good. Nice.” He looks at the difference between their hands, his rough and worn, Mark’s softer but with little calluses where his pen must rest.

They talked a lot in the hospital, between shared kisses. Most of what they talked about was lighthearted, school, and work. Mark told Donghyuck about his friends, all about Jeno and then Jaemin, the music he wants to make, and Donghyuck carefully told Mark about Renjun, avoiding any mention of the gang. Mark told him about his family, and Donghyuck was grateful that Mark seemed willing to fill the silent gaps in Donghyuck’s stories with adages of his own. He loves just watching Mark, he’s decided, watching him talk, laugh, light up when he’s passionate about something; the way Mark goes all soft when he talks about his friends and family, the way he looks like he’s gathering every word Donghyuck says and holding it close. It frustrates Donghyuck to not be able to do it back. 

“So-” Mark starts.

“I’m in a gang.” Donghyuck flinches because that’s not quite the right word for what they are. “Or, well. Part of a group… of organized… crime? Just, uh, run of the mill illegal stuff. I guess.”

Mark is quiet for a moment, turning their hands over. “Are you like… Robin Hood?”

Donghyuck can’t help but laugh, wincing when it pulls at the stitches. “You’re so cute. Not- not really. We aren’t really good guys. We aren’t the worst guys though! There are much worse. Taeyong has never, ever started anything like, trafficking rings or whatever. Just, normal stuff.”

“Normal,” Mark repeats. “Just so you know, none of this is normal for me. But I believe you.”

“You’re kind of a goodie two shoes aren’t you?”

“Um.” Mark shifts in his seat and Donghyuck realizes that maybe came out wrong. “I guess so? The most illegal thing I’ve probably done is sneaking into a college party because Jeno wanted to and drinking when I was in high school.”

“How’d that go?”

“Great, until Jeno threw up in my mom’s potted plants. She was mad and I had to pretend like I got food poisoning very suddenly in our foyer.”

Donghyuck laughs, and can’t help but pitch forward to lean on Mark’s shoulder. “Well, I’m sure you can guess that I’ve done, uh, a lot more than that.”

“Can I…”

“You can ask,” Donghyuck answers before Mark finishes his question. “I told you I’d tell you.” Mark nods.

“I’m gonna… guess that you’ve like, uh, stolen, and maybe breaking and entering? A lot of that,” he amends, watching Donghyuck’s reaction. “Um, have you… done any drugs?”

Donghyuck holds back a giggle at the look of relief on Mark’s face when he shakes his head. “No. I leave that to the others. Ten does, quite a bit, and Yuta is our- the group’s- supplier for whoever wants it. I haven’t, though.”

“Okay.” Mark takes a deep breath and Donghyuck knows what the question will be before Mark even begins. “Have you ever killed anyone?”

“Yes,” Donghyuck replies quietly. “I try not to count.”

“Oh.” 

Donghyuck doesn’t know what to say. He hasn’t killed many, usually leaving that for Sicheng or Lucas, but he has. Should he apologize? He’s not sorry for any of the deaths he’s caused, not really. He thinks back to the guy he killed on the last mission and the tattoo sprawling over his back. Luckily Mark doesn’t ask more about it.

“Okay,” he says instead, nodding. “How’d you meet Taeyong? He seems like… like you’re really close.”

“Yeah.”

“How’d you meet?”

“I had kind of a shit childhood,” Donghyuck begins. “My dad was pretty much out of the picture since I was like, five, and my mom remarried when I was like eight to a real asshole who hated me. Dunno why, maybe cause I wasn’t really the most obedient of children. I used to get in fights with kids at school over the smallest, dumbest things. I think I was maybe ten when he started to hit me but my mom was really busy, working and going on business trips and stuff so she didn’t really notice. Taeyong did though. He was a few years ahead of me in school and asked me about the bruises. I didn’t want to tell him so I punched him, which I pretty much thought was the solution to everything back then. But even then he was much better at fighting than I was, so it wasn’t hard for him to kick my ass. I think he understood that I had to fight. Anyways, when he graduated, he offered to help me run away. I was like twelve or something. And of course I took the chance and never looked back. 

He let me stay with him in his shitty one room apartment and I think he tried his best to keep me out of it but obviously being in a gang is kind of hard to hide. So I just started to go with him, and then when the guy who used to be in charge died everyone just sort of… voted Taeyong to be the next leader.” 

Mark listens quietly, nodding along. “And then you met everyone else? How many are there? In this group of organized crime.”

“Oh! Uh, quite a few. There’s Taeyong and Johnny, who you met, who’re like the boss and the right-hand man, and then Jaehyun who’s like the left-hand man. Taeyong needs many hands. Uh, Jungwoo you met, he drives and fixes cars and shit, and generally charms his way out of situations with the police. Lucas and Sicheng are our brute and gun guys respectively.”

“Okay-”

“Doyoung is in charge of numbers and shit, and Taeil is the closest we have to a doctor. Well, he is basically a doctor but never graduated med school. Yuta is, like I said, I guess the drugs guy, he’s in charge of making deals and following through. Xiaojun is our tech guy slash hacker but I’m pretty sure he’s usually just playing Overwatch. Hendery is our bartender and pretty much that’s it but he beat the shit outta some guy once who got too touchy at the bar so don’t fuck with him.”

“I wasn’t planning on it.”

“Yangyang is liaisons and negotiating mostly because he knows like, ten languages and never shuts up. Kun’s basically everyone’s mom. I don’t really know what else he gets up to. Ten… I dunno. Information, I guess? He’s kind of a slut but is the best at getting intel. I don’t know how he does it because he’s high all the time but he’s happy so I guess it doesn’t matter. And Renjun technically is in charge of outfits and disguises but mostly he just bullies me.”

"And you?”

Donghyuck shrugs. “I dunno. Just a little bit of everything, I guess. I mostly just do whatever I have to to finish a job.”

Mark nods, and brushes his thumb over the back of their hands. Donghyuck feels a happy little spark jump between them and sighs, content. “Are you happy?”

“What?” Donghyuck glances up, meeting Mark’s eyes. His stare is intense and Donghyuck pushes down his immediate gut response to think a moment. “I… Yeah.” He is. “They’re… they’re my family now, you know? I love them. All of them. So…” He chews on his lip, looking away. “I don’t know what to do. I don’t like thinking about hurting you but I don’t know what I’d do if…” _If you asked me to leave._ “I hated you, or the idea of you, for a really long time.”  
“Why?” Mark asks quietly, but he doesn’t sound angry. 

“Because I always felt like such an asshole, you know? I knew that you were trying to be safe and I just kept hurting you. I just hurt you, and hurt you, and refused to stop because this is all I know. For the first time I had people who actually cared about me, and I was so scared that if I said no to the training and the jobs that they’d kick me out or something. I didn’t even tell them I had a soulmate for years. Taeyong found out on his own. He was really angry and we got in a really big fight but he wouldn’t hit me back. We didn’t speak for like a week. 

“I don’t know what to do, Mark, because if I stay and keep going out with them I’m gonna keep getting hurt because that’s part of the job, but now I’ve…”  _ Met you, and might be a little bit in love with you.  _ “I’ve found something that makes me not want to. And that scares me.”

Mark doesn’t say anything for a minute, and Donghyuck blinks furiously to keep himself from crying. It’s quiet for so long that Mark speaking up startles him.

“Remember when I told you I wasn’t mad? About the injuries?”

“Yeah, and I still don’t understand.”

“I worried about you, a lot. I wondered if you were being abused, or if you were getting into fights. I guess you were doing both.” His mouth twitches up in a smile. “It scared me, every time I woke up with a new big bruise or cut because I’m a romantic, okay, and I wanted you to be safe and healthy and all I knew about you was that you got hurt a lot. But I never hated you. It never felt like it was on purpose, you know? So I just had to hope that whatever was happening to you that you’d be okay. I wasn’t angry. When I broke my leg I thought that it would be my fault if you got hurt because you were stuck with a fucked up foot. I was so worried. 

“I’m not gonna ask you to leave this, uh, gang, or whatever, because it clearly means a lot to you and I don’t wanna take that away from you. But… when you were dying, and I was sitting in my apartment… I don’t think I’ve ever been that fucking scared, of anything. I didn’t know what was happening except that I had a little fucking cut on my side and couldn’t breathe. And then,” Mark takes a deep breath and sucks in his cheeks, looking down at their hands. Donghyuck wants so desperately to erase the sadness in his eyes. “And then you… died, I guess, just for a moment, and I sat on my bed and couldn’t feel anything. I stared at my hands and knew I had them but I couldn’t fucking feel them. One second everything hurt and the next there was nothing.” He shakes, just barely, and Donghyuck wraps both his hands around Mark’s, if only to remind him that he’s there. “I’ve never felt anything like that in my entire life, and I don’t think I could survive going through it again. So I don’t know what to do either. I don’t want to ask you to stop but I can’t go through that.” His breathing picks up and he curls forward, resting his head on Donghyuck’s neck. Donghyuck can feel his heart rate pick up. “I can’t, I can’t do it. Every time I close my eyes I see my own hands covered with blood and you lying in that hospital bed. I keep pinching myself to make sure I can feel things. I feel like I’m losing my mind.”

“Oh, Mark.” Donghyuck pushes past the lump in his throat. “I’m so sorry. I’ll- I can,” he struggles but he has to, he has to for Mark. “I can leave th-”

He’s cut off by Mark’s mouth pressed against his. “I’m not asking you to leave, Donghyuck,” Mark whispers, cheeks wet. “I just- I just want you to be careful. It’s not fair for me to ask you to quit. But please, Donghyuck, maybe you go out less, or maybe you do, I don’t know, different, less dangerous jobs. I can handle bruises and scrapes but it was just too scary, Hyuck. We’ll figure this out, but for now, for a while maybe, just… take it easy. For my sake.” He laughs weakly, and Donghyuck reaches up to brush the tears off his face.

“Okay,” he says, and doesn’t even care that he’s crying too. “We’ll figure it out.” He kisses Mark’s forehead, smooths the lines between his eyebrows away; he kisses the soft skin at the corners of his eyes, his cheeks, wiping away salty trails and asks for forgiveness for the past week, for the years and years. He whispers, anything that comes to mind, determined and desperate to tell Mark he’s alive, he’s here, and he’s not going anywhere.

He manages to slide his hands up Mark’s jaw and around his neck, pulling him back in to kiss him over and over again, fitting together as if they were made to and  _ oh,  _ Donghyuck thinks,  _ oh.  _ This is his soulmate, this is his perfect match, this boy who wants him to stay despite everything. Mark pushes forward, accidentally knocking them off balance and into the cushions of the couch. He presses closer, and closer, and somehow it feels like something clicked, something restless settled inside Donghyuck. 

The City is his home, this apartment is his home, his found-family is his home, but Mark... Mark is where his heart is.

🀁 🀁 🀁

“...and that’s Doyoung! I think that’s almost everyone. I don’t know where Ten and Kun are but I’m not going to go look.”

Mark nods, trying to keep track of all of the names and faces. “Right.”

“Donghyuck will be spending lots of time with me,” Doyoung says, a mix of caring, smug, and irritated. “It’s the compromise Taeyong offered for the time being, until he decides what to do with you.”

Donghyuck scowls dramatically but grins when Doyoung ruffles his hair. “I guess, hyung. I’ll try to actually pay attention this time.” Doyoung rolls his eyes.

“Don’t make yourself a liar. Just show up to my office in a few days. And please, let me know when you’re coming instead of barging in like last time.”

“It’s more like a closet-” Donghyuck shrieks dramatically as Doyoung lunges for him, chasing him around the main area of the bar before Taeil interrupts.  
“Doyoung, I know it’s hard to resist but be gentle.” Donghyuck hides behind the doctor, sticking out his tongue. “Don’t think I won’t confine you to your room if you don’t behave, Donghyuck,” He says sternly, smiling in the face of Donghyuck’s pouting. Donghyuck switches his target to Mark, looping their arms together. Mark shrugs.

“Doctor’s orders?”

“Boring,” Donghyuck protests, but hums happily when Mark just kisses his forehead. “Where’s Jeno? Isn’t he supposed to come pick you up for work?”

“He probably got distracted by Jaemin. He should be here any minute.” Mark wonders, not for the first time why Jaemin doesn’t just come get him.

_ “Well,” Jaemin said, “then I don’t get to spend as much time with my darling Jeno. Plus, where would we leave the car? The parking is practically nonexistent anyway.” _

He has a fair point. Mark watches Donghyuck bicker with Doyoung for a moment before two voices from outside filter through the open door. Jaemin and Jeno emerge, Jaemin staring at his phone while Jeno talks.

“Oh! Mark. Sorry we’re running behind. Jaemin needed my help… uh, cleaning?”

Mark rolls his eyes. “Yeah, okay. Whatever. Let’s go.”

“You! Cute boy!” Jaemin shouts, and points to where Renjun is pushing through the swinging door to the kitchen. “You never answered my question!”

Renjun turns pink, and Mark sighs. “What question? I don’t remember-”

“At the hospital! I asked if you’d want to have a threesome with me and Jeno.”

From then, several things happen at once. Doyoung chokes, staring at Jaemin, while Donghyuck starts to laugh. Renjun’s entire face goes red, and Jeno smiles in that angelic way he does. 

“Jaemin you can’t just keep asking people that!” Mark says, punching him in the arm probably harder than he needs to. Jeno jumps, hand going to his own bicep, and Jaemin winces.

There’s a yelp from behind them.

And then there is silence. Mark, along with everyone else in the room, slowly turns to see Renjun clutching his own arm, wide-eyed and mouth dropped open.

“Um-”

“What the-”

Jaemin grins in the middle of the sudden chaos, and marches right over to Renjun. “I was right! You’re the one! We finally found you.”

“You’ve asked everyone,” Jeno says serenely. “That doesn’t really make you right this time. Just wrong all the others. Hi, Renjun. I think Jaemin forgot your name.” He turns that eye-smile on Renjun, who looks like he might want to vanish into thin air. 

“I didn’t! I was waiting for my chance. Renjun, we have so much to talk about!” Jaemin grabs both Renjun and Jeno by the arms, flipping Mark off as he drags them outside. 

Donghyuck blinks when they’re gone, finally looking at Mark.

“Sorry, what the hell just happened?” 

Mark shrugs, laughing. “No idea.”

“Jaemin! Na Jaemin, explain yourself,” Donghyuck yells, running after them, shortly joined by Jaemin shouting back unintelligibly.

“Well,” Mark says, looking over at Doyoung and Taeil, still staring. “I guess I’ll… go… see what that’s about.” They nod, and Mark follows the sounds out the door, grinning.

There’s a lot he doesn’t know, but, he thinks, watching Donghyuck chase Jaemin around, holding some sort of weapon over his head and screaming, they’ve got time. He winces when Renjun smacks the back of Donghyuck’s head, joining the noise. 

He follows his heart into the mess and pushes his worries away, laughing.

🀄 🀄 🀄

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> mahjong tiles if youre interested:  
> 🀖bamboo 7 - impatience  
> 🀛circles 3 - great happiness, joy, recovery  
> 🀦spring - success through common sense, patience  
> 🀑bamboo 2 - relationship overcoming obstacles, fidelity, trustworthiness  
> 🀁south - satisfactory end to any problem  
> 🀄red dragon - success, goal fulfillment
> 
> and finished!  
> ch.4 is a smut epilogue that im maybe... 60% finished with so! shits wild here in sk but my school i work at is closed for like a whole two more weeks or whatever! lots of writing time (she says, as she continues to ignore wmsr)  
> HUGE HUGE thanks to nee @moonfleur on ao3 and @moonfleur_ on twt for betaing and putting up with me god bless u <3 big thanks also to my very best friend katy i owe u my whole life and wouldn't even trade you to the devil for TWO corn chips (maybe three)  
> anyways! see y'all soon with the epilogue ^^


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> epilogue!!! please enjoy ^u^  
> warnings for sappy, gooey lovey dovey smut

**🀥🀥🀥**

“Hey Mark,” Donghyuck says, and Mark looks up from his book. The glitter in Donghyuck’s eye means nothing but danger for Mark. He shivers.

“Yeah?”

“If I get bruised so do you, right?”

“Um, yes,” Mark answers, confused. “Why-”

“Like, if I accidentally hit my elbow, you kind of feel it too.”

“Yes?” Mark wonders where this is going. “And then I’ll get like, a light bruise. But you already knew that, why are you asking?”

“And vice versa,” Donghyuck muses to himself, and carefully sets his glass down. He slides out of his chair and pushes Mark over on the couch until there’s enough room for him to curl up against his side. 

“...Yes?”

“Interesting,” Donghyuck hums, and Mark jumps when he brushes his fingers over the strip of bare skin above his sweatpants. 

“Hyuck?” 

“Yeah?”

“Um,” Mark says, as Donghyuck’s hand creeps further up his stomach. “What- what’re you doing?”

“Nothing,” Donghyuck replies, smoothing his fingers over the faint definition of Mark’s abs. “Watching TV.”

Mark stares at the television that isn’t even on, baffled. “Ah.”

“Mark,” Donghyuck murmurs, lightly tugging on the band of Mark’s sweatpants. He dips his fingers past, and Mark vehemently wishes he could sink into the couch cushions. “Mark,” Donghyuck repeats, looking up at him, face flushed, “are you…?”

“These sweats are really comfy,” Mark says, strained, and wishes Donghyuck would take his hand out of his pants. “And- I need to do laundry.” He can’t stop his hips from jumping as Donghyuck traces along where the edge of his underwear would be if he was wearing any. “Hyuck! Hyuck, hold on.” He grabs his wrist. “Hold- what are you doing?”

His soulmate shakes his head and presses his face into Mark’s neck. His voice is muffled against Mark’s skin as he says, “I’m making the moves on my boyfriend. Soulmate. Whatever. His roommate isn’t here and I just figured out he goes commando sometimes. He’s really, really hot and I’d like it a lot if he’d take me to his room. Soon.”

Mark stares at the ceiling for long enough that Donghyuck starts to pull his hand back until he tightens his grasp on Donghyuck’s wrist. “Wait-” he summons all the courage he can find with the sudden lack of blood going to his brain. “I- um, yeah. I’d- like… that. Too. I’d like it. Um, to my room. Yeah. Please.” He feels more than hears the puff of laughter Donghyuck lets out against his neck. 

“Mark Lee,” he says, and Mark shivers. “Let’s go, then.”

Somehow they make it to Mark’s bedroom, hands laced together even though Mark refuses to look back at Donghyuck. If he looks at him it gets too real too quickly and Mark… well. 

Donghyuck closes the door behind them and locks it, turning to face him. Mark fidgets and Donghyuck laughs again, pushing him lightly until he hits the bed. Mark squeaks in a very undignified way as his soulmate pulls off his hoodie, tossing it to the other side of the room. The sound makes Donghyuck pause, hands on the bottom on his t-shirt.

“Mark?”

“Yes?” 

“Are you… have you done this before?”

Mark shakes his head, covering his face with his hands and waiting for Donghyuck to laugh, to make fun of him. Instead of any of that, he hears Donghyuck’s breath catch, and then his hands are gently peeled away. Donghyuck is a fucking vision, all soft and glowing in the light from the lamp on the bedside table. 

“Oh, Mark,” Donghyuck sighs, and he’s smiling and so, so pretty, “you don’t have to be shy.”

“Have you?” Mark asks despite himself. He’s not sure what he’ll do with the answer either way. Donghyuck nods and Mark burns. “How… who?”

“Three times,” Donghyuck says after a moment, clearly debating whether to answer. “And I’ll tell you later. Not right now. This is about us, not them.”

“Right.” Mark’s mouth feels dry. “Okay. And you want to?”

This time he does laugh, peeling off his shirt and lightly tugging at Mark’s until he raises his arms and lets him take it off. “Of course I want to, dumbass. I l-word you a lot, idiot.”

“I love you too,” Mark manages, and Donghyuck flushes, leaning down to smooth his hands over Mark’s chest. 

“Do  _ you  _ want to? We don’t have to, hyung, we can stop. Go and actually watch TV.”

“I do! I do. With you. I don’t…”

“Don’t what?”

“Don’t wanna fuck up,” Mark mutters, wrestling with Donghyuck for a moment to try and get his hands back so he can hide again before giving up and looking away instead. “Thought about this a lot.” And he has; Donghyuck is in his dreams, every fantasy he’s ever had slowly taking on the shape of his soulmate, golden cheeks and soft lips and bright eyes and freckles like a map on his skin. He’s dreamt of following those freckles like a man at sea, drowning in sunlight and swallowing siren songs. His mind clips together the sounds Donghyuck makes when he’s happy, when he’s pleased, when he’s laughing, and played it on repeat while Mark dreams of exploring and learning how to draw those noises- sighs, quiet moans, contented hums, and delighted mumbling. It’s embarrassing just thinking about it. “Think about you a lot.”

“Tell me about it.”

“What?” Mark blinks at Donghyuck, who is blushing furiously but holds Mark’s gaze.

“Tell me about your thoughts, Mark Lee.”

“Oh,” Mark breathes, “oh.” 

Donghyuck moves in and kisses him once, twice, before shifting to mouth lightly at Mark’s jaw and down his neck. “Tell me, hyung, what do you think about?” 

Mark shudders and manages to drop a hand to the crown of Donghyuck’s head, lightly brushing through the silver strands. “I think about you-” Donghyuck laughs and continues his path over the slope of Mark’s shoulder and to his clavicles. “-think about your- your everything, really.”

“Do you think about my mouth? My hands?”

“Yes,” Mark exhales, “all the time.”

“Tell me. Where? What am I doing?”

“Ah, Hyuck- it’s, it’s embarrassing.” Mark tries to twist away from him, and Donghyuck tuts, pinning him to the bed.

“Don’t be embarrassed. I think about you too, you know. Thought about what you’d finally look like when I gathered enough nerve to get you into my bed. Any bed, really. My dreams were never picky.” Mark weakly pushes against him, and Donghyuck continues trailing his lips across Mark’s chest down to his stomach. “Thought about how you’d look above me, or below me.”

Mark stifles a groan building in the back of his throat. Before his mind can catch up he’s lifting off the bed to let Donghyuck pull his pants down, suddenly very reminded of his decision to forgo boxers this morning. His hands twitch to cover up and Donghyuck notices, of course he does, snickering.

“Relax.”

“It’s hard to relax when you’re naked and your very-hot soulmate is not,” Mark mutters, and then is torn between being grateful that Donghyuck decides to strip off the rest of his clothes or not because he’s so, so distracting, revealing more and more smooth, perfect skin, marred by scattered pale scars. “God, Hyuck, you don’t even know how gorgeous you are.”

“I have an idea,” Donghyuck preens, blushing. Mark finally gets the nerve to touch him, running his hands along his chest, watching the muscles tense and twitch. He traces the freckles up his neck and then to his cheek, pulling him back down to press their lips together, sliding his arms around Donghyuck’s shoulders. 

“You’re much better than me at this.”

“It’s not a competition,” Donghyuck says against Mark’s mouth, “at least not this time. I will forever remember that you told me on your own there’s something I’m better at than you though.” Mark tries very hard not to make any sort of whining sound when Donghyuck disconnects, lightly pushing at Mark’s knees until he can sit between them. “You’re not so bad yourself, you know?” Mark shakes his head and Donghyuck laughs. “You are! I’m so lucky. I get to look at your pretty face and hold your pretty hands as much as I want. You don’t know how handsome you are, Mark Lee, and I’m gonna keep telling you until you get it through your stubborn head,” he teases, and Mark knows how red he’s turning. He’s almost embarrassed again at how aroused he already is, despite Donghyuck barely touching him. He jolts when Donghyuck touches him, light fingers wrapping around him.

“Donghyuck,” he groans, and his soulmate looks at him, shuffling around to settle down, lightly nipping at the skin of Mark’s thighs.

“Hmm?”

“Fuck- is- is this why you were asking about the bruises earlier?”

“Yep.” Donghyuck grins, pulling with his teeth and drawing away when he’s satisfied with the dark spot he’s left on his leg. “Wanted to know what it’d look like if you marked me up. Or, I guess, if I did it to you.” He kisses over the already purpling hickey, following a path up to the meeting of Mark’s upper thigh and hip, breath hot on sensitive skin. “Lube?”

“Uh, bottom drawer. But-”

Donghyuck raises an eyebrow, pausing. “What?”

“I- uh… I’m not-”

“Oh,” Donghyuck says, realization dawning on him. “Oh. That’s okay. I can do it instead. I don’t care who tops. Next time.” He riffles through Mark’s bedside table, and either misses or ignores the shiver that overtakes Mark at his words. “Condoms?” Mark’s silence makes him laugh. “You really weren’t prepared for this? At all?”

“No! That’s not- That’s not it,” Mark fumbles, feeling exposed. “I mean, that’s kind of it. I just- Jeno’s not out very often, and I thought- we’d maybe, talk? More? About it.”

“Did you never get curious? Never even thought about sleeping with anyone else?” 

“I thought about it,” he protests, avoiding Donghyuck’s curious eyes. “It just- it was always gonna be you. Gonna be my soulmate.”

“Oh my god,” Donghyuck says, cooing, and Mark wrestles his hands away to cover his face again. “You’re so fucking cute. Saving your first time for me.”

“Please shut up.”

“I’m being honest! It’s sweet. Special. I’m-” Donghyuck seems unsure for a moment, and Mark hurries to shake his head, interpreting what Donghyuck’s worrying about.

“You know I’m hopeless when it comes to things like this.” He laughs awkwardly. “I never… never expected my soulmate to wait for me. I just wanted to.”

“Right,” Donghyuck says, and he sounds a bit further away. “Well, I’m clean. Got tested after last time. You?”

“I got tested at one of the awareness events on campus a few years ago,” Mark mutters into his hands. “And uh, haven’t… needed to since.”

“They do tests like that at those?”

“I guess.”

“Wow.” Donghyuck hums, and Mark hears the cap of the lube popping. “Now will you look at me and stop hiding?”

“Sor-” Mark’s eyes fly open on their own with the sensation of Donghyuck taking him between his lips. “Oh, fuck.” He almost wishes he hadn’t ever closed them because somehow he missed Donghyuck both coating his fingers as well as reaching one hand behind himself. It’s suddenly very hot in his room but somehow Donghyuck’s mouth is hotter. “Shit-” he jerks when Donghyuck hums, blindly guiding one of Mark’s hands to his head again before pressing his own fingers onto Mark’s waist to keep him still. His wrist moves and Mark threads his fingers through Donghyuck’s hair harder than he intends and accidentally tugs on it when he does something with his tongue. Donghyuck pulls back with a gasp, blinking at Mark.

“Fuck,” he pants, lips red and shiny. Mark  _ wants  _ him.

“Come here,” he says, and Donghyuck surges up to kiss him, uncoordinated and messy. 

“Oh,” Donghyuck groans, jolting forward and Mark slides a hand down his back. “Mark- oh, Mark, please.” He withdraws his hand and grabs Mark’s, guiding him. “Like- yeah, you can- three, shit-” The sound he makes is alarmingly loud and Mark freezes, searching Donghyuck’s face for any signs he should stop. He doesn’t find any and Donghyuck pushes back against his hand. “Fuck, Mark.”

Mark thinks he could do this all day, watching Donghyuck shake when he curls his fingers just right. A faint sheen of sweat turns his skin into molten gold, a thought Mark briefly considers should be gross. It’s not, just terribly arousing and Mark might lose his mind at this rate. Donghyuck’s thighs quiver on either side of Mark’s hips and he bites hard on Mark’s collarbone, breathing heavily against his neck. 

“St- stop, enough,” Donghyuck manages, weakly pushing Mark’s hand away. “I’m ready.” Mark almost protests because he wonders if he could just finger him all night instead. It’d probably be just as satisfying.

He scratches that thought immediately as his soulmate jerks him off for a moment before lining up and sinking down. He chokes on a moan, grabbing onto Donghyuck’s waist and fighting the urge to yank him, to fuck up into him. The pinched expression on his face is enough to keep him still. 

“Shit,” Donghyuck whispers, slowly settling. “It’s- it’s been a while. Hold on.”

“Sure.” Mark grits his teeth and opts to run his hands up Donghyuck’s sides. None of his dreams can even begin to measure up this, to seeing Donghyuck gather himself and straighten his back, tentatively shifting on his lap. His pretty, pretty mouth falls open just slightly and Mark can’t help but tug him down into a kiss.

“Oh! Oh, Mark, fuck,” he gasps against his lips as the position changes. “Ah- warn me next time.”

“Sorry,” Mark replies, “you just looked so gorgeous.”

Donghyuck flushes, pushing back up with his hands planted on Mark’s chest. “Quiet you,” he mumbles, “shut up and fuck me already.” He doesn’t give Mark a chance to respond because he’s already lifting up and dropping down, head tipping back. Mark is sure that having sex is about both giving and receiving but he’s frozen in place, watching his soulmate take shuddering breaths and start to build up a rhythm. Gorgeous is an understatement; Donghyuck is brillant, stunning, glorious in all his beauty, softly lit by the low light from his lamp. His hair is pewter in the dark, eyes glinting like flint that sets Mark ablaze. The dips and curves of his figure and stomach are perfect, an astonishing amalgamation of everything Mark never thought he’d be lucky enough to have.

“Mark,” Donghyuck groans, back arching, “stop- stop staring and, ah, shit, fuck me,  _ please. _ ”

“Right. Right, fuck-”

“Don’t, don’t apologize,” he says, changing the angle to bend down and suck a dark hickey into the side of Mark’s neck, teeth scraping against his skin. “Just, move.”

It blurs together in a fantastic kaleidoscope from there, Donghyuck hot and tight above and around him, panting and moaning, unrestrained. His thighs begin to shake and Mark takes over, gripping him and bringing them together again and again until his core tightens and his pace falters.

“Hyuck- Donghyuck, I’m-”

“Yeah,” Donghyuck gasps into his ear, littering more bruises over his shoulders. “Yeah- fuck, come on Mark, come on.”

Pleasure tears through Mark, pattern stuttering and grasp tightening until he’s sure he’ll be able to see imprints of his hands on Donghyuck’s hips. White dances across his vision and he thinks he can feel a tear rolling over his cheek. 

“I- Mark,” his soulmate says, rocking back and chasing his own end. “Touch me,  _ please. _ ”

And Mark will never be able to deny Donghyuck anything so he stifles a wince of overstimulation and wraps a hand around him clumsily. 

And when Donghyuck tosses his head back, shaking, and comes all over Mark’s fingers, he repeats his name like a mantra, quivering and pushing him away when it becomes too much. 

After Mark dutifully grabs a towel and cleans them both off, he tugs Donghyuck back into the bed, under the covers. Donghyuck snickers but follows easily, tangling their legs together.

“I should have known you’d cry.”

“Fuck off,” Mark murmurs, too in love to be embarrassed.

“Was my ass that good? Or-”

Mark shuts him up with a kiss, quietly laughing. “Just shut up for a minute, will you? It’s hard to appreciate the afterglow when you keep talking.”

Donghyuck makes an affronted noise, and Mark smothers his protests with more kisses. His soulmate relents and melts into his arms, sighing. “I’ll give you shit about it later.”

“Fine,” Mark says, humming. “I’m gonna need you to look in a mirror first thing in the morning though.”

“What?”

“You’ve got all these lovely bruises all over your collarbones.” Mark traces one of the spots with a finger and shivers at the same time as Donghyuck. “They’re pretty.”

“I hope your ass hurts in the morning like mine.”

“Way to ruin the moment.”

Donghyuck giggles, pushing further into Mark's arms. And maybe it’s the atmosphere, maybe it’s how solid and secure Donghyuck is in his grasp but he tugs at the last vestiges of his conscious brain to mumble, “so who did you sleep with? Before me.”

“Are you sure you want to know,” Donghyuck responds, yawning, eyes slipping closed. Mark shrugs, a hand absently tracing up and down his back. “Okay, I guess. I had a stupid crush on Jaehyun when I was younger so he was my first, and then Renjun, and then some guy at a club whose name I can’t remember. Han something.” He yawns again, taking a snuffly little breath and relaxing, breathing evening out as he falls asleep.

Mark, however, is suddenly wide awake.

“You slept with Renjun?!?”

🀨🀨🀨

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> to be continued in a norenmin spinoff ;) i had to do it to y'all
> 
> what a wild journey but we made it  
> thank you so much for reading and for all the nice comments!!! may u all be blessed with your bias's photocards in the album :D
> 
> mahjong tiles:  
> 🀥chrysanthemum - pleasure, leisure  
> 🀨fall - physical labor and rich rewards (;D)

**Author's Note:**

> [twitter](https://twitter.com/naeuioneonenine)  
> Thanks so much for reading!!! 💕


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